The Box of Duress
by KeJae
Summary: After Neal allegedly steals the treasure and escapes to relish his ill-gotten gains, Peter finds him back in the medical transport box three months later. This leads to problems, including a mysterious doppelganger wreaking havoc on Peter's life.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

* * *

"He took my wife!" Peter had Neal pinned up against the siding of his house. The agent's hot breathe came in quick pants while his face was screwed up in fury. "We're done! Do you hear me? We are DONE!"

Dragging his consultant into the house, he pushed the man off on the first two agents he came across. Barely looking to see who took him, he barked commands. "Transport him straight to prison, and accompany him yourselves. I don't want him to escape due to anyone underestimating his skills."

Continuing further into his house, Peter found Jones and Diana. Running a hand down his face in reaction to the stress, he explained how Keller had abducted his wife to get the treasure from Neal, so he was done with the backstabbing consultant.

Turning as Neal was transported past them, all three agents saw the stoic expression on his face. The con man had all but shut down based on his expression, but whether he was hiding hurt, guilt or something else was anyone's guess.

Intentionally turning his back, Peter didn't allow Neal any kind of a chance to change his mind. He had already invested everything into the criminal and had lost too much.

Caught in the middle, Jones and Diana chose to glare accusingly until the younger man was out of sight.

Redirecting their focus back to their boss, the two younger agents began the process of working to get his wife back.

* * *

Early the next morning, Peter was faced by two younger agents from his team. The same two he had passed Neal Caffrey to the night before.

"He escaped, sir." Dak said trying to hide the tremble in his voice. He was a young blond haired agent with a promising future, and it didn't bode well for him to fail his first prisoner transport.

"What? How?" Peter exclaimed in angered surprise while rising from his seat. Apparently, Caffrey couldn't even go to prison without causing trouble.

"We were at a stoplight when there was an accident. Caffrey used the opportunity to escape while we were distracted." The second agent, Brad, stated. Like Dak, the red-headed young man also had a promising future, if he didn't tarnish it too badly through the learning process.

Rearing back to read them the riot act, Peter deflated suddenly. If he, the senior agent, couldn't hold Caffrey, who could? "Fill out your reports and make sure the alerts are spread. We don't want him getting too far."

Surprised, the two agents exchanged glances before escaping. They didn't linger in case he changed his mind.

Watching from above, Peter could see the team divided. Most of them were working to find his wife, but a few were tasked with the work to find their former consultant.

Unable to stir up enough emotions on the matter, Peter simply put the Neal file to the side of his desk and waited for the time when the crime spree would begin, because he had no doubt Neal would return to his former life.

* * *

A few days past; Elizabeth was found, Keller was arrested, and life seemed to return to a pattern of normal.

Elizabeth went to work and waited for her husband to arrive home from late nights at the office.

Peter was just as much of a workaholic as ever. He was still angry with Neal and threw himself into closing cases as quickly as possible. Maybe he was trying to prove he was better off without the con? Whether or not that was true, he had returned to work, his wife, and baseball. The man he once called a friend was no longer there to debate him, wasn't keeping him on the course and was an elusive reminder to their destroyed friendship.

The team worked to close cases in the office. There wasn't the same level of laughter and lightheartedness, but there was progress all the same. If Peter seemed to be having a particularly bad day, only three would consider dealing with him. As the boss, Hughes was able to work with him, and the only two subordinates willing to risk his wrath were Jones and Diana.

In many ways, the pattern of their lives had returned to the normal prior to Neal's involvement as their consultant, but there were noticeable changes in the people. Mostly, Peter, Jones, and Diana had been altered, but they were the agents closest to the con.

* * *

Three months passed with no news of their former consultant. No crimes fitting his MO, no sightings, and no traceable contact with his known associates.

* * *

Working a new case, the White Collar team was searching for a missing painting. It had been stolen from the Met by a man dressed in black with his face covered. The crime appeared to be unsolvable, so they struggled to find any lead.

Then they got an anonymous call. According to the tip, the painting was in a warehouse towards the outskirts of the city in a relatively abandoned area.

Understanding that it could be a trap, the team geared up and went to investigate the scene.

* * *

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	2. Chapter 2

**Finding Neal**

* * *

Walking down the hall of the warehouse, Peter led a team into a grungy room. It was dimly lit by a few lights hanging from the ceiling to draw attention to a large object. The thing was shaped something like a propane tank but had wires and tubes coming and going indicating it was more sophisticated than a container of gas.

"Get the bomb squad in here just in case!" Peter barked to his subordinates while he walked around the object trying to gauge its purpose. "What is this?" He asked the other agents checking the room.

Shrugs and theories came back at him.

"Maybe it stores stolen art to keep it at stable temperature and humidity?" One theorized.

"I hope it isn't a bomb." Another stared dubiously at it. "I can't run that fast."

"None of us could." Someone else noted the obvious.

"Well, whatever it is, it's better to be safe than sorry," Peter commented to prevent the conversation from spiraling down any further. He didn't need his team missing something because they were worried about possibly being blown up.

While they waited for the bomb squad to arrive and process the mysterious object, the teams throughout the building began to compile what they were discovering.

"Hey boss, we've got a room full of Nazi crates…" Diana radioed from where her team was searching the backside of the building next to the loading docks.

"Maybe the security station we found will have something to explain them. There are piles of tapes and several active cameras showing the entire building." Jones reported from where his team had entered through the side entrance. "By the way Peter, what's that big thing you have there?"

"Your guess is as good as ours. We're waiting for the bomb squad to check it out just in case." Peter responded through the radio while shrugging at the camera.

The teams continued working to search their areas until the bomb squad arrived. Then while they investigated the mysterious item, the rest of the teams paused to monitor the situation. Some were in the area in person, others were fortunate to be near the screens for the cameras, but the rest had to rely on their radios to hear updates.

Eventually, the squad leader declared the object to be harmless. "This isn't a bomb." He paused for the noise of everyone releasing their consecutive breaths. "It's a medical transport of some kind. Whatever, or whoever is in there, is alive."

Blinking, no one had considered that as a possibility.

"Alive?" Peter balked. "Like we could be dealing with human trafficking or illegal animal imports?"

"Whatever it is, it isn't legal, and whatever's in there probably didn't end up by choice. The thing was locked tight to ensure nothing got out." The leader confirmed.

Uncomfortable, Peter moved forward with his team watching his every move. Lifting the lid, he paused to stare at the unexpected form lying within. "Neal…" He couldn't help the word slipping out roughly in his horrified shock.

Blinking, Neal's eyes opened and he slowly turned to look at Peter. "Pe… Peter… back again?" Sighing softly, Neal sounded sad, like he was giving up. "How many times…. do I have to tell you?" He paused to catch his breath. "I didn't steal the treasure, and don't know who did…" Pausing again, even the minimal conversation seemed to be exhausting Neal. "You don't trust me, threw me away… didn't think twice about it…" A tear slipped down to disappear in his hair. "… just get it over with… kill me… now." Then his eyes rolled up into his head and his face lolled to the side until his cheek rested on the box's interior.

With his heart racing fit to beat out of his chest, Peter reached a shaking hand to check Neal's pulse. Finding a weak thumping against his fingers, he hollered for a medical team to be brought in. "Caffrey's in rough shape."

Peter jumped as static burst through his radio before Jones' question came across. "What do you think he meant?"

Unable to answer at first, Peter's eyes were too busy taking in the rest of the box's contents. Neal wasn't dressed to allow for the wires and tubes to run in and out of his body. There was blood, a fluid IV, and all of the usual things you would expect in a hospital setting, but it was made eerie for the coffin-like apparatus containing it. What worried Peter was why there were extra lines taking off colored fluid into Neal. Were they medicine, or something more sinister? Shuddering, he pressed the radio button to answer. "I have no idea, but then I'm thinking something is very wrong with this whole situation right now."

"Is he hurt?" Diana's question came through. "That might explain the medical equipment stacked along one wall in here. It's not a large pile, but maybe Neal has friends who were trying to take care of him?"

"He is unconscious, so either he's hurt, or that stuff going into him is doing something." Peter didn't have a satisfying answer.

Moving aside for the second specialty team of the day, Peter watched as the medics began to unhook wires and tubes from Neal. They started with the questionable ones requesting samples of their contents for testing. Then they replaced the necessary lines with ones of their own before preparing to lift him over to a gurney.

Turning Neal to place a cloth underneath him for easier lifting, Peter saw his back and the light area indicative of a bullet entrance wound, then they turned him to move the cloth under him for access on the other side, and Peter saw the scar of the exit wound on his abdomen. Having seen those, his eyes then started picking up on others. The scars weren't easy to see but told dark stories of pain and past injuries.

"One, two, three" the medics lifted Neal out of the box and over to the gurney for transport. Covering him with another cloth, they strapped him in and then moved him out toward the waiting ambulance.

Standing next to the box, Peter didn't move at first. His mind was flashing through what he had seen during the previous minutes. Flashes as Neal once again denied knowing anything about the treasure, accused him of throwing him away, asked to be killed, and then the sight of his scars. Rubbing his hand down his face, Peter closed his eyes briefly as he tried to organize the stress.

While he was debating on how to proceed, his radio crackled and Jones came through. "Hughes is on his way to process the scene. We can handle this, why don't you go with Caffrey?"

Although a part of him wasn't sure at first, Peter nodded and started towards the ambulance. It had been a long time since he had allowed himself to think about the con. For three months he had stamped any allusions towards the con down. The man had betrayed him, destroyed their friendship, and was somewhere in the world enjoying his ill-gotten gains… Stopping, Peter realized he had probably been wrong. Caffrey… Neal had just denied knowing anything about the treasure, yet again, and this was after enduring what appeared to be torture. If he had known anything about it, wouldn't he have handed it over?

Resuming his pace, Peter caught up to the paramedics just before they were about to close the doors. Flashing his badge, he ordered them to allow him to ride with them. He was in charge of the man in their care, and he knew his medical information. Nodding, the paramedic directed him to take a seat before closing the door behind him.

Riding along as the bus traversed the city traffic with the assistance of its lights and sirens, Peter answered the paramedic's questions and watched as they monitored Neal's condition. The man was alive but wasn't in very good shape. Although the medic didn't theorize anything, everyone knew torture had likely been a part of Neal's captivity.

Reaching out and grabbing Neal's hand, Peter watched as his stats seemed to drop further. Was that because of Neal's time in captivity, or because it was his touch? Peter thought back to what Neal had said to him. What had he meant by 'back again?' Did Neal think he had anything to do with what had been done to him? The thought had Peter turning a little green himself.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that was likely. Neal had spoken like he had seen him previously through his captivity, had mentioned the way he threw the con away, and then asked him to finish the job and kill him.

Looking for somewhere to throw up, Peter was grateful when the paramedic passed him a bag. Once he had finished, he didn't feel any better, but at least there wasn't anything left in his stomach to churn.

Wiping the sweat off of his brow, he realized Neal had either been tricked into believing he had been involved, or the more likely the kid had blurred reality during his torture. It was painful to consider Neal so hurt by his behavior that he could picture him as the tormentor who had locked him up in that box… but maybe he was.

After all, Peter had sent him back to prison, deliberately turned his back on him, and he hadn't seriously looked for him beyond waiting for his crime spree to start up. It was his fault these people had managed to get a hold of him.

He tried to tell himself it wasn't his fault, that Neal had probably brought it on himself by doing something stupid, but his mind always brought up the facts of his abandonment. Neal didn't have anyone else he could trust and had said so himself.

Did the kid try to find who had really taken the treasure, only to get caught up in others who wanted his information to pursue it themselves?

As the ambulance pulled up at the hospital, Peter followed the staff's directions like he was in a fog. Before he caught up to himself, he was sitting in the waiting room while Neal was being checked over in the back.

El joined him, they talked about the situation, and eventually, the doctor came out to call them about Neal.

"To summarize his initial condition, Mr. Caffrey has been shot three times, with one occurring approximately three months ago. The recent injury was a long-range shot that penetrated through his back before exiting through his abdomen. Several organs were nicked, but he was medically treated to survive the injury so it was likely only intended to weaken him. Then his body shows months of harsh treatment through the healing process. It indicates exposure to extreme temperatures, torture drugs to cause pain without leaving physical marks, hallucinogenic drugs, captivity in a confined space we believe to be the capsule he was found in, and based on your report some kind of mental manipulation that is likely causing him to confuse his circumstances with something other than reality. Combined, this has caused him to heal very slowly so we are keeping him for observation." The doctor tried to remain professional as he delivered the news.

"How long do you anticipate him being here?" Elizabeth asked. She hadn't seen the man since before her abduction.

"That depends on how quickly he heals. His system has been through a traumatic event and we can't rush him."

"Can we see him?" Peter knew he had let the kid down. No matter why Neal had ended up in the box, he wouldn't have been in it for so long if he had actually tried to find him.

"We will allow you five minutes to visit him. Then we will see about you sitting in the hallway where you can at least see him. He is easily agitated, so we are going to restrict his interactions until the drugs can work through his system." Indicating a nurse standing beside him, the doctor sent them on their way.

Following the nurse, Peter held Elizabeth's hand until they reached Neal's room. "He… he said some things when we found him, it's probably best if you visit him first." Peter waited in the hallway while his wife visited their friend. The agent was afraid of the reaction he would get, so he wanted to ensure she got the chance before he did.

When it was his turn, Peter stood by the door at first watching Neal as he lay on the bed with wires and tubes attached to his body again. This time he had a hospital gown and blankets to ensure he was covered and was as comfortable as possible.

Walking forwards slowly, Peter didn't say anything until he approached Neal's side. Then he reached out and touched the bed, tracing his fingers lightly over the material to test his reaction. "Neal…"

It was his voice, Peter was sure of it, because Neal didn't even open his eyes or acknowledge his presence, but the monitors went wild! In moments, Neal was groaning and moaning while the medical staff ushered Peter back to the hallway.

Watching through the glass as Elizabeth held his hand, Peter saw the staff injecting things into Neal's IV, holding him down so he didn't hurt himself, reconnecting anything he loosened with his thrashing, and watching the monitors to ensure his stats were stabilizing back out. When the excitement was over, they didn't know for sure what caused it, but Peter did. Neal really did blame him for torturing him!

* * *

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	3. Chapter 3

**Accusations**

* * *

Sitting in the hallway on a basic two-seat bench, Peter's ears were attuned to the open door beside him. It was the access point to his friend's mind because it allowed him to hear the drugged ramblings Neal was uttering. Whether that was a good thing or not was yet to be seen, because Neal wasn't speaking nicely about him.

Leaning forward with his head in his hands, Peter listened as Neal went through his answers to the treasure questions yet again. It was the third time he had gone through them. When he wasn't talking about the treasure, Neal had rambled through his memories of Peter's treatment before his abduction, and the repeated references to him being thrown away.

Elizabeth sat quietly listening to the words with her hand rubbing Peter's back while she lay her head on the back of his shoulder.

"He thinks I did all of that to him…" Peter rested his eyes on his palms in the hopes of stemming the tears pooling there. Neal hadn't just been crying out about the interrogation he had endured or the treatment Peter had legitimately put him through, he had accused him of torture as well with pleas for him to stop some treatment or another.

Putting her other arm around Peter's torso, Elizabeth tried to hug him from the side and offer physical comfort. Then she kissed the cheek nearest to her before shifting her face into the crook of his neck where she could feel his pulse beating near her ear. Whispering words of comfort, she reminded him that Neal had been pumped full of drugs the whole time. His cries didn't mean he blamed Peter, just that he was confused.

Shuttering as he heaved a shaky sigh out, Peter couldn't believe that. "He might be confused, but he has specifically cried for me to stop, stop hurting him, stop questioning him, stop pretending that I care…" Turning to her with tears in his eyes, Peter was the most hurt by the last part. "Neal, Neal thinks I was just pretending to be friends with him? How could he think that?"

"I don't know Hon. They had him for a while, and we don't know what all he's been through." Elizabeth didn't like what Neal had been through, but she didn't like how his words of accusation were cutting her husband so deeply either.

"Peter Burke?" A group of men approached them with Hughes in the lead.

"Peter," Hughes stated his name in a solemn fashion.

"They're here to arrest me, aren't they?" Peter sighed as Elizabeth held him tighter. "I don't know how or why, but Neal has been rambling things in there, and he genuinely believes I was the one who held him captive and tortured him… And I don't see him being that certain unless someone did something very well, whether it was drugging him, or something more, is a question you just answered."

Trying to walk in the middle, Hughes knew Peter hadn't committed the crimes he was being accused of, but he had also seen some of the evidence to know it didn't look good. "There is recorded video and audio evidence showing you as the person… holding him captive and torturing him. The warehouse had piles of videos, and we've only begun to find what they contain."

Standing up, Peter pulled El into a last hug and kissed her goodbye with surprising acceptance. "Don't worry hon. We'll figure it out." When he had said goodbye he stepped forwards, passed Hughes his badge and service weapon, and allowed the OPR agents to cuff him while reading him his rights.

Walking down the hall, Peter wasn't paying much attention to the agents beside him as they guided him out to their vehicle. He found it ironic after the many times he had walked others along in cuffs. Now he was experiencing the walk of shame, and the firm motion as the agents helped him duck his head into the car with his hands cuffed behind him. This was something he had done with Neal three times, but now it was his turn for what he had both literally and allegedly put the con though.

Reaching the FBI, he experienced an even more humiliating walk of shame to enter the Bureau. Many agents stopped and watched the procession and the whispers were so loud as to be almost deafening to Peter.

When they reached the interrogation room, Peter felt the cold of the chains as he was cuffed to the table. The agents were being gentle enough, but it was still startling to find himself on the other side of the table.

"Do you know what you're being accused of?" The lead agent asked as he took his seat.

"No. We discovered my consultant earlier this afternoon, took him to the hospital, and he's been rambling through his delirium about the circumstances prior to his disappearance and during. According to him, he was tortured and interrogated, but… he…" Choking on the words, Peter could hardly think it. "He thinks I did it to him." In an uncharacteristic motion, Peter wasn't sweating or showing fear, he was fighting the tears of emotional pain.

"That is only part of it. Your former boss hasn't seen all of the footage, even we've only begun. However, there is a lot more than just torturing your former consultant." The second agent answered as he laid folders out on the table and set up a television.

"What are the rest of the charges?" Peter wondered.

Sliding the folders forwards, the second agent started listing them off. "We have evidence of you raiding Caffrey's storage unit to steal his art and supplies, the Nazi treasure was in the warehouse with footage of you unloading it, one shows what you did when Caffrey allegedly ran, and then there is a whole pile with your visits to him in captivity."

"Allegedly ran?" Peter found himself wanting to know more about that situation, as much as he dreaded it.

"You're going to play it that way, huh?" The second agent frowned before he started up the television.

Turning his focus, Peter watched as the camera showed the transportation vehicle pulling over in an empty parking lot. Then to his surprise, the agents from his team climbed out hauling Neal with them before standing to either side of him giving the camera view of their faces enough for him to read their lips. Then according to what he read, they were ordering Neal to run. Facing away towards the camera, Neal planted his feet and refused. 'I can't do that to Peter' rolled off of his lips. One of the agents laughed at Neal as he commented about Peter throwing Neal away, reminding him how his friend had turned his back. 'Doesn't mean I have to let him down' Neal remained planted in place. Suddenly, Peter jumped as he watched the blood blossom on Neal's abdomen. Only then did Neal collapse to land on the pavement. When a mirror image of Peter walked forward holding a smoking gun, Peter turned for a trash can only to wretch over the empty air.

"Can't stomach watching your own actions?" The second agent said with a sneer. "Agents like you make me sick. You walk tall and proud, speak justice and the law until you're caught just as surely as the criminals you deem yourself better than." He turned his back on Peter much as Peter had on Neal.

Closing his eyes as he leaned forward onto the table, Peter promised himself that he would apologize to Neal if he ever got the chance, and he would never turn his back on the con again.

"I think we need to go further into this. If you didn't like that, maybe you'll confess before we get through the clips we've identified thus far." The first agent said as he directed the second to switch tapes.

Knowing it wasn't going to be pretty, Peter lifted his head and watched the screen as it showed the inside of the warehouse. This camera had audio so he didn't need to read their lips and could focus on the picture as a whole.

Big doors slid open and the prison transport vehicle drove in to park. Dak and Brad opened the rear doors before moving to retrieve the transport box. Rolling it up to the van, they pulled an unconscious Neal out and stripped him before putting him into the box. There the lookalike bandaged his injuries and instructed the agents on how to attach the tubes and wires to his body. Finally, with him strapped in, they wheeled the box over to the wall, the lookalike closed the lid, and they all walked away.

"How about we skip forward a few days? These next clips get even more interesting… I never would have seen you as this sadistic, but that's appearances for you." The second agent said as he started changing the tape.

What followed was round after round of torture and interrogation. It showed the look-alike cruelly belittling Neal and accusing him of withholding the treasure. Around and around, Peter got a glimpse of what Neal had been reacting to in his delirious pain.

"Do you want to know an interesting coincidence?" The second agent changed tapes again and started into another series. "I find this one particularly fascinating."

The coincidence in question happened to be the clips of the lookalike raiding Neal's storage unit and showing him particularly admiring the Chrysler building before loading it into the truck with a crack about preferring the original. Then they changed to a camera view as Peter's look alike worked with Dak and Brad in addition to several unknown persons to unload crates of Nazi treasure into the warehouse. Joking while they did the work, there were comments about framing Neal and laughter about how no one would suspect them as everyone would be too busy pursuing their fall man. To solidify where the coincidence commentary came from, the agents reviewed some of the torture clips showing the lookalike interrogating Neal with torture for the treasure located in the room behind him.

"Did you not like that coincidence? For some reason, I thought you would be amused by it." The sneer was back as the second agent stopped the tape and turned off the television.

"You don't have to confess, we have more than enough evidence to put you away, Burke." The first agent piled the folders and the video clips. "And that is without even going through the entire pile of video clips. All we had to do was peruse a few choice selections that our anonymous citizen gave us."

Wishing he could wake up from the nightmare, Peter put his forehead on the cool table and tried to sooth his churning gut. He knew he hadn't done any of those things, but the camera feeds indicated something worse than what he was expecting. It wasn't Neal's drugged ramblings or even a good mask. Someone who looked a great deal like him was intentionally targeting him and using Neal cruelly to do so. "Doppelganger," Peter said as he remembered the word.

Pausing in their activities, both agents looked at Peter. "What?" They quested at the same time.

"I said doppelganger. That wasn't me, he didn't seem to be wearing a mask, and he looks a lot like me. A doppelganger is the only explanation I can think of beyond plastic surgery, and a lookalike would be cheaper to come by." Peter explained to the agents.

Snorting, the second agent took the seat across from him. "So, you expect us to believe that is some guy who looks like you did it? Let's be real Burke, that isn't likely."

"The numbers vary, but it is estimated that there are approximately seven to eight people on the planet who look alike at any given time. Think about Elvis and how many people who run around dressing up like him. Come on, haven't you ever seen a lookalike contest or those celebrities who look alike things? Sure, finding someone who looks like me doesn't seem likely, but you've got him on tape there." In response to their skeptical glances, he challenged them. "You obviously don't believe me, so why don't you track down where I was during those times. I work a lot as my wife and team will attest to you, there should be plenty of times where I'm clearly in the office and not at that warehouse. Even my fingerprints alone should be sufficient data to give reasonable doubt." It was risky, if they had spied on him, they might have timed their activities to when he couldn't be accounted for, and fingerprints could be acquired as easily as taking a solid smooth surfaced item he'd touched.

Seeing it as a means to settle the matter, the first agent agreed to the challenge and they asked him if he had anything else to say.

"No. There isn't much to say to that until there is evidence just as solid that it wasn't me." Peter couldn't fight them, but he had pointed out some of his best hopes.

With their interrogation complete, the two agents unlocked the chains and lifted Peter from the chair. He was shaking and a little unsteady after the video feeds, but he was determined to stand on his own so he pulled it together within a few minutes.

Walking back into the hallway, Peter was surprised to see Hughes standing with Jones and Diana. They weren't near the interrogation room, but they had been allowed to see him before he was taken to prison.

Nodding to them, Peter didn't encourage conversation. He couldn't take much more, and he wasn't looking forward to the prospects of what awaited him. It wasn't his warm bed at home with his wife, but a cold jail cell where his bunkmate also wore an orange jumpsuit.

Keeping their distance as directed, Jones and Diana nodded to him in an effort to provide some encouragement. Hughes didn't have much to say either but advised him to keep his head down and avoid confrontation until the situation could be cleared up.

Giving them another nod, Peter was ushered from the building, through the process, and soon found himself being guided into solitary confinement.

"You get your own bunk, bosses orders." The guard vaguely explained.

Grateful for the privacy, Peter's primary worry was that his doppelganger might not be done with him. With nothing he could do, Peter glanced around his cell before sitting on the bed. He couldn't go to sleep, so he stared at the ceiling, listened to the other inmates, and worried. Worried about his former consultant, the best friend he had betrayed. He worried about his wife and team. Worried about how his case would turn out. Would the agents be able to find the doppelganger used to frame him, would they be able to find evidence he hadn't been present through the torture and other events, and would they be able to close his case correctly before it was too late?

There was a lot of worrying to do, and it kept Peter awake all night.

* * *

Thank you, everyone, for reading, reviewing/commenting, following, choosing to favorite, and leaving kudos :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Visitors**

* * *

Hearing footsteps approaching down the hall, Peter knew something was going on because they were coming at an unusual time based on the patterns he'd observed. Was it good news, or bad? Stopping in front of his cell, the hallway went almost quiet before there was a jangle of the guard's gear and a request for his door to be unlocked.

Sitting up, Peter watched the procedure with interest as he wondered what was going on. He was alert for danger but hopeful for good news. Looking the guard over, there wasn't anything encouraging.

"You have a visitor." The guard announced before taking him through the process for transporting him to the public room.

Asking questions, Peter tried to figure out who he could expect. His wife, or someone from the team?

"Says he's your lawyer." Was all the guard would say before he started him on the walk down the corridor through various checkpoints.

Knowing he had a lawyer, Peter wondered what the man was doing visiting him in prison. Had there been a change to his case?

Entering the room, he was stunned to see Mozzie standing in a purple suit with a garish bow tie and holding a briefcase. "…Mr. Haversham?" He decided to use the alias since he didn't expect the man to go by Mozzie in a prison.

Waiting until the guard had left them in relative privacy, Mozzie refrained from showing anything by holding a serious expression to go with his professional posture.

Once they were alone, Peter couldn't hold it back any longer. "How is Neal? Elizabeth, is she alright? Have you heard anything about my case? Why are you here?" The words poured out in a torrent.

Smirking, Mozzie put his briefcase on the table and began to pull papers out. "That answers question number one." And then he proceeded to write on a piece of paper.

"What?" Peter didn't know what to do with that.

"I'm here to check on your condition under the present circumstances." Mozzie confused him even more.

"Why are you here to check on my condition?" Peter couldn't help but wonder if the man was gloating. Wouldn't Mozzie hate him for what he had allegedly done to Neal?

"There are interested parties who would like to ensure you are handling the circumstances well enough to endure a little longer. Although you appear to be enduring in general, I do not recommend you stay in here long term. Already, you are becoming rather worried about what is occurring on the outside. Has no one else been by to visit?" The con man was frank in his answer as if they were discussing lunch… only without the drama of 'the man' conspiracy theories.

"Am I dreaming here, or are you actually saying you represent some unknown group who is checking up on me like this is a voluntary thing where I could just walk out when things become too much?" Peter was incredulous. Was Mozzie serious?

Blinking owlishly, Mozzie jotted an addition to his previous notes. "Maybe you need to get out of here sooner rather than later… questions the validity of my presence, indicating potential symptoms of acute stress disorder."

Slapping his hand down on the papers, Peter made Mozzie look up at him. "I'm stressing because you aren't making any sense. Who are these interested parties you're talking about, and why do they have you playing psychologist?"

"Old friends of Neal's, and that is all I will say about their identities. They are interested in the situation for his sake. Based on the circumstances, Neal wouldn't want you to be in prison, so how you're handling the situation is a concern." Mozzie's answers were as irritating as usual since he seemed to be talking in riddles.

"Alright, so old friends are around, I can deal with that, but why check on my circumstances? I'm here until the evidence is discovered to clear my name." Frowning at Mozzie, Peter started glaring. "Are they withholding something, and waiting to see if I've been punished severely enough? Because I know I messed up with Neal, it didn't take prison to teach me that."

"I'm glad to hear that. You did mess up with Neal, and he didn't need you to treat him the way you did. However, no, they aren't… exactly, withholding evidence. They are looking into the situation and endeavoring to balance your situation with the danger presented to others if this doesn't play out right." Mozzie finally gave him some answers he could work with.

"There are others at risk? Who?" Peter pushed. The more he understood the situation, the easier it would be to handle.

"It's best to keep those details restricted at this time. You need only focus on your part. Others are handling the rest." Mozzie stood before he began to collect his papers and organize them back into the briefcase.

"Please, don't go yet." Peter reached out to lay a hand on his arm. He was feeling lonely and isolated, and if Mozzie was the only person to visit him then he needed to make the most of the opportunity.

Pausing in his motion, Mozzie just stared at him for a moment. Then he settled back into his seat and continued to put his papers away. "Neal is still working the drugs out of his system. It's only been a few days, so although he isn't as delirious, he's still loopy. Your team is working to find the evidence to clear you so your agents haven't had time to visit. Instead, they hope to get you out so they'll see you around the office instead. As for Mrs. Suit… she has tried to visit, but someone doesn't seem to want that, because she runs into excuses every time. Her paperwork is lost, you aren't available for visitors for some reason or another, and so on and so on. No one has threatened her, but keeping her away seems to be another level of the torture intended for you."

Relieved by the news, Peter relaxed a little bit. He had been completely shut out. No one seemed to visit and the utter lack of communication was a concern, particularly where his wife was concerned. "I'm mostly glad to hear it. Neal is improving and the team is working diligently… however, the situation with my wife worries me. What if this doppelganger goes after her next? Please watch out for her, make sure he doesn't use my absence to try something!"

Nodding seriously, Mozzie promised. "Your team has been checking up on her when they can, which is the other reason they haven't had time to visit, and Neal's friends are watching out for her. He won't get the chance to do anything there."

"Do you know who he is?" Peter felt his gut instinct kick intuitively.

Mozzie hedged for a moment before answering. "No, I don't know who he is."

Staring at Mozzie, Peter knew the man wasn't telling him the truth, at least not entirely. "Let me guess, you can't answer that for some reason or another." He growled in frustration. "I'm sure you're aware of what he's done to Neal, I need to know it isn't going to happen again. Neal doesn't deserve to be treated like that, no matter what anyone says."

Softening, Mozzie relaxed in his seat some. "You're right, Neal doesn't deserve the situation he's going through, but then we all endure hardships due to our choices or the actions of others. Just because he's a decent man, doesn't mean evil men won't hurt him given the opportunity."

"Is that why you're here?" Peter asked again.

"I already answered that I'm here because I've been sent to check up on you," Mozzie answered while reaching for his notes again.

"No, I mean is that why you're here, emphases on you. If these people just wanted to check up on me they could have sent a real psychologist. Are you here because you believe I'm here because someone else is using their opportunity to hurt me? I would have thought you'd be the last person to visit, or if you did, that you would be ranting about how this is all my fault and what means you had to protect Neal from my cruelties." Peter interpreted what he was beginning to understand.

"Let's just say… I'm aware of the doppelganger hypothesis. This fellow, he is your evil, nonbiological, twin." Mozzie shrugged. "Unless you have a biological twin you don't know about?"

"If I didn't know about him I couldn't tell you. But no, I do not have a biological twin." Peter couldn't help but relax a little bit. At least his conversation with Mozzie was beginning to take normal turns.

"But if you don't know about him, then you can't be certain you don't have an evil twin." Mozzie lobbed the point back at him.

Rolling his eyes, Peter didn't want to carry the point any further, it had been made. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." Mozzie settled into his seat more comfortably and kept the conversation flowing until his visiting time was up.

When he was led back to his cell, Peter felt more relaxed. The team was working to handle the situation, Mozzie was helping them protect his wife, and even these unknown old friends of Neal's were helping. Under normal circumstances, Peter might not like unknowns assisting in his troubles, but considering the extremes he was facing, the more help the better.

Stretching back out on his bed, Peter found himself dozing into a nap for a while as Mozzie had eased his concerns enough for him to get some rest.

Waking up a while later, Peter was surprised to hear voices outside of his cell. Creeping to the door, he crouched down to listen through the slot.

"Why are we protecting him? He's just some FBI agent?" A voice growled.

"And I was just a geek while Sarah was just a skirt, and now we are the best two you've ever worked with… and don't deny it, I've heard it from you directly." The second voice was lighter, friendlier.

Growling, the first voice said some not very nice things about the FBI. "I've met a lot of FBI agents, and none of them is anything special."

"Based on the things reported about this agent, I can see why Neal likes him. I think he might even consider him one of his best friends." The second voice was oddly defending him.

"Yeah, which is why he's in the hospital complaining about how the guy threw him away. That sounds like a great friend." There was a demeaning tone to the first voice in respect to his opinion of Peter.

"Maybe Burke just made the same mistake I did back in the day… act based on what he saw, not what was going on. Neal, he's good at keeping his secrets, and Burke probably jumped to conclusions." The second and friendlier voice stated.

Grunting, the first voice didn't have an argument.

Moving on down the hall, the voices resumed their patrol. Apparently, their passing his door had inspired the brief conversation.

Leaning forward to place his head against the door, Peter knew the second man was right. "I did jump to conclusions, and Neal is very good at keeping secrets."

After a few moments of sitting there listening as the echoes faded down the corridor, he stood up and slowly walked back to his bunk. There wasn't anything to do, and he wasn't especially trained in how to exercise in a cell, so he spent a lot of time stretched out staring at the ceiling.

"What I wouldn't give to have a stress ball right now…" He muttered.

"Sorry, but that's against prison protocol." A male voice answered him. It sounded like the second voice from the hallway, the friendlier one that had defended him.

"Who are you? And why were you defending me in the hallway?" If the man was going to talk to him directly, then he would happily attempt to get information.

"An old friend of Neal's, but then you already knew that, didn't you?" The voice sounded like he was smiling.

"Yes, Mozzie told me you were interested in my situation. Care to expand upon the situation further?" He bantered with the man. It was something to do.

"As Mozz explained, I can't, there is more to this than you know. However, I can answer your other question. I'm defending you because Neal needs you, because you're a good agent, and because… what's happening to you, it isn't right." The man sounded genuine.

Maybe, maybe Peter could like these friends if they weren't too overly criminal. Stretching out to get comfortable again, he kept talking to the voice and enjoyed a conversation.

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	5. Chapter 5

**Protection**

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Finding his prison stay more bearable after learning his wife was protected, he was being watched over, and people were working on his case from all angles, Peter was actually able to enjoy his time in the yard a little. Once the guard had released him, Peter started walking around, doing a few stretches, and watching the birds fly above him. It wasn't freedom, but it was better than the four walls of his cell.

Sensing trouble, he turned around and noticed that the guard was no longer standing by the door watching him. Instead, there was a rather large man dressed in orange… a convict. It was likely this was the person hired to teach him a lesson he would never forget, not like he would ever forget this whole series of events anyway.

"I take it you're here for a special meeting?" Peter watched the way the man cracked his knuckles with an amused chuckle in response to his comment. "What is it with henchmen always cracking their knuckles? Do you think it makes you seem more intimidating?"

Uttering something between a laugh and a growl, the man began advancing on him.

There wasn't enough distance for Peter to have a nice lead, and the man was between him and the only available exit. Fighting, he could bide some time, maybe get the advantage, but he assumed this man had been picked for his abilities. Then, even if he did manage to defeat his assailant, it wouldn't look well for his case and the people behind it all could use that to their advantage. It was a sticky situation no matter which way he went.

After blocking his right, the man's left hook sent Peter spinning for the ground. Rolling, he heard the thud as the man's foot hit the dirt where he had been. Regaining his feet while the man repositioned himself, Peter was able to get a hit in of his own that sent the man staggering back a step. Then he took another punch to the gut before the next one sent his head back while he fought to remain standing. Ducking another blow, he landed a few into his opponent's gut before landing a blow to his face.

"Not bad… for a Fed." He heard the growl before another large man landed into the fight and pulled the convict off of him.

Being pulled off to the side, Peter found himself facing a younger man with a mop of curly brown hair, brown eyes, and a concerned expression.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" It was the friendlier voice.

Interested to meet these old friends of Neal's, Peter answered the question and observed the young man while he was checked over.

"That's right. You don't seem to be injured too badly, just a little roughed up." The man finished checking him over before helping him to a seat.

"What am I supposed to call you? I doubt you're going to give me your real name." Peter managed to say despite wincing.

"Uh… Let's go with Caleb, it's the alias I'm using here." The second voice, Caleb, shrugged. "My family has fought the people responsible for this before, and we don't want them to know we're here yet."

"The element of surprise" nodding ever so slightly, Peter understood the strategy. "What do I call the angry guy over there?"

Chuckling, Caleb grinned at him. "That's a good description for him." Pausing, he glanced over his shoulder to check on his counterpart. Then turning back he answered. "We'll go with Collin. It's his alias here."

"Caleb and Collin, easy enough. Are you actually guards or here Neal style?" Peter tried to get a better grasp of who they were and what he could expect.

"Well, that depends. According to the records we are real guards, but since we weren't the day before yesterday…" Caleb put an innocent expression on as he smiled.

Frowning, despite his headache, Peter admonished the man. "You do know that's illegal."

"That depends on a few details… This isn't entirely illegal, just stretched into what some would call a gray area." Caleb took a seat next to him while Collin took the other convict inside.

"Gray areas... I naively used to believe life consisted of black and white, and now it seems to be all shades of gray." Peter sighed as he leaned back. Looking up, he watched a bird wheel and dive as it flew about in the open air.

Looking up to watch the bird as well, Caleb shared a little of himself. "I get you there. My life, it was 'normal' until I was thrown into the deep end of how unusual my family legacy is. Now strange things are normal and normal doesn't exist anymore." Caleb sighed as well.

"Life is strange, and nothing stays the same." Peter's gaze dropped back down to the razor-wired fence and levels of security that were intended to keep him inside his literal prison.

"That's good though. It would be boring if it was a safe normal that remained stagnant." Caleb chuckled.

Laughing slightly, Peter couldn't imagine such an existence. "My wife would worry about me less, but it would be utterly boring."

Falling silent for a few moments, they were enjoying the breeze on their faces and the noise of the great outdoors. Then the door opened again and another guard announced visitors waiting for Peter.

Asking who the visitors were, Peter didn't get much of a response, just an indication that they were agents.

"Probably someone from your team," Caleb said with confidence. Peter noticed he didn't say former team but referred to them in the present tense.

Sending the other guard for a few medical supplies, Caleb prepared Peter for the transition from the yard into the visitor room.

Walking down the hall, Peter used their relative privacy to ask "What will you do if it's not my team?"

"Keep my head down and hope they haven't seen my picture. My wife dealt with your doppelganger directly, I never have." Caleb didn't have much choice considering the situation. "In the worst case scenario, I guess I'll play dumb and hope they consider me another doppelganger."

"Another question. Why did you mention my team in present sense? No one has since I was arrested." Peter attempted to satiate his curiosity.

"Because they're your team," Caleb smirked. "I know it isn't pleasant to be left in the dark, but there is a reason that makes it worthwhile."

"I'll have to take your word on that, yours and Mozzie's that is," Peter stated as they approached the visitor room.

"For Neal's sake, trust us on that," Caleb asked seriously.

"That's why I trust you. I don't know you, but I trust his instincts, and Neal's never let me down when it counts." Peter answered while Caleb accepted the medical supplies from the other guard and got the door opened.

Entering the visitor room, both men were relieved to see Jones and Diana occupying the seats as they waited.

Relieved, Peter threw a glance at Caleb while the man released him for the visit.

Returning the look, Caleb finished releasing him before handing him the ice pack and stepping back to observe in his guard role.

Taking his seat and gingerly placing the ice pack where he hurt most, Peter was glad to see his agents there to visit him. "Did Mozzie talk to you?"

"What happened to you?" Diana asked in concern.

Lightly touching his face with his free hand, Peter knew the swelling was in progress and the red coloring was an indicator if nothing else. "My guard left and a convict was sent to teach me a lesson, but other guards happened upon the situation. It's going to be colorful, but I'm fine. I'm more worried about how everyone is doing on the outside."

Uncertain for a moment; Jones looked him over before he began talking. "Elizabeth is worried about you. Someone is preventing her from visiting and she is afraid of why. Based on how you look, there is a good reason for concern."

"Don't tell her about this. There are some guards watching out for me, I'm not in as much danger as you think." Peter didn't want them worried about him when he had Caleb and Collin to protect him.

"Are you sure, what if these guards are just pretending until they get their chance?" Diana questioned.

"My gut, and Mozzie's word. Apparently, Neal's friends are watching out for me." Peter shrugged without indicating Caleb who was in hearing range. "How is the case going?" He redirected the conversation onto the next topic.

"Slow," Jones said. "We have been collecting information pertaining to everywhere you've been over the last three months for them to compare to the surveillance footage. A lot of it is in the office, but you were in the field or at home where it's tougher to verify. Still, we're hoping something will prove you weren't involved."

"I hear they got a bunch of evidence from an anonymous tipper though, so we're hoping your doppelganger isn't up to something. Maybe these friends of Neal's found something?" Diana asked.

Worried, Peter hoped it was the latter. "Possibly, Mozzie said some things that didn't make sense, and one of the guards protecting me seems certain of my innocence."

"Do you think they're withholding evidence?" Jones inquired.

Using his peripherals, Peter saw Caleb raise an eyebrow. That was a good indicator they probably were. "I would assume so, but there seems to be more to the story. My being in prison isn't the only problem, so they're trying to work it all out in the best way possible. If it keeps this from getting worse, I can chill here for a while." Caleb shook his head ever so slightly.

Following his gaze, Jones and Diana looked toward Caleb and tried to decipher why Peter was observing him.

Distracting them, Peter asked, "How is Neal?" His voice dropped to a softer and quieter level.

Exchanging glances, Jones and Diana silently decided on what to say.

Taking the lead, Diana started. "We were able to visit him today. The drugs aren't in his system as strongly so he is catching up to reality."

"He knew he was really in a hospital, so that's an improvement." Jones tagged on.

"What are you hiding?" Peter pushed them. "Don't hide anything for the sake of my feelings."

"Neal, he wanted to know how we accidentally found him. He didn't think we would find him on purpose by any means… said no one ever does." Holding up her hand, she stalled Peter. "Most of what he said was disjointed bits that don't make sense. Comments ranging from the FBI taking their turn trying to kill him after other agencies have failed, he alluded to having been tortured in the box before and mentioned being betrayed since he was a kid. When he stopped talking he was off in his own world, so maybe it was something from the torture they put him through, a side effect of the drugs leaking out of his system, or even something real from his past. Either way, he didn't want to elaborate when we got his attention back."

"Did he say anything about me?" Peter's heart was racing. What did it all mean?

After another exchange of glances, Jones answered. "We explained how we found him, and he asked if it was really you there when he was rescued."

Closing his eyes, Peter asked. "What did you say?"

"I told him about you leading the operation and watching you open the lid on the security tape from the guard station. Then I explained what transpired through his rescue. He looked upset and asked if he spoke out loud at any point from when the lid opened forward, particularly the times when you were around. We told him he was loud and clear, but he started rambling in another language so we don't know what he said in response. What surprised me, was when he asked how you were." Jones gave a report rendition, trying to ease any sting. "There wasn't much to say, only that you were worried about him, had been accused of several crimes, and that you were in prison awaiting trial."

Nodding, Peter was too busy dealing with the surprise to ask questions.

"Neal said to tell you he was sorry," Diana stated. "He just didn't say what for."

Laying his head down onto the table, Peter was trying to deal with the emotions. First Neal had referenced a troubling history, then he had questioned Peter's presence in the rescue, showed distress to know he was present while he talked, and finally he apologized? It didn't make sense. "I should be the one apologizing to him."

"We all should be." Jones agreed.

"For some reason or another," Diana added.

"You're time's up," Caleb stated from where he was standing by the door. He had remained generally quiet but stepped forward in his guard role.

"Stay safe, Peter. We're working to get you out of here as soon as possible." Jones tried to encourage him.

"Don't worry about Elizabeth. We're working with Mozzie to make sure she's safe." Diana added. "Neal's got guards in the hospital too, he's safe now."

"Thanks, I appreciate it, all of it." Peter lifted his head to say goodbye.

Watching them walk out the door, Peter hoped they were right. Then turning back to his protector, he was glad Caleb was being so gentle. "Are your people watching over Neal? I don't want him to get hurt anymore."

"They are. We've got people all over this." Caleb reassured him before escorting him back to his cell.

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Thank you, everyone, for reading, reviewing/commenting, and leaving kudos :D


	6. Chapter 6

**Release**

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The next morning, Peter was pulled from his cell by one of the more regular guards he assumed to legitimately work in the prison. He was informed that he had a visitor before he was processed and walked to the public room.

Taking his seat gingerly, Peter endeavored not to wince too much since that hurt his face and would make his injuries seem worse than they really were. "Mornin' Hughes. It seems whoever has been keeping visitors away is only succeeding with El now."

"No one came to see you?" Hughes questioned while observing Peter's injuries for himself.

"Not at first, then Mozzie, Jones and Diana, and now you, sir." Looking at how little Hughes had brought with him, Peter knew it wasn't just a work orientated visit.

"Are they keeping you safe in here? It looks like someone took a run at you." Hughes wasn't pleased to learn that their protective measures didn't seem to be working. "The solitary confinement was supposed to prevent anything like this from happening."

"My cell is safe, and most of the guards are working to ensure nothing happens. This was just one incident where the guard left and a convict paid me a visit to the yard. I'm sure it's been taken care of, and I'm fine, really, I am." Peter tried to reassure his boss.

After observing him for a moment, Hughes opened his folder and began to lay out the timeline the team had accumulated for him based on their work, his time at home with his wife, and what they knew of his habits. However, there were some gaps still to be filled and he hoped Peter could point them in the right direction for where he had been in the gap times.

Answering the questions as best as he could, Peter lined up where he had been and what he had been doing through several of the gaps. Still, it wasn't enough to fill everything.

"I hope that's enough…" Peter muttered while rubbing his hand gently over his face. "Most of those times, I wasn't going or doing anything too specific, just randomly moving about lost in thought or emotions. What I thought Neal had done…If only I knew what was really going on; then I would have been looking for him more seriously instead."

Softening his expression, Hughes tried to comfort him a little bit. "No one would have guessed what was going on, there's no way to see something like this coming."

Looking up at his boss, Peter had a question he needed to be answered. "Please tell me Dak and Brad were caught for their participation in this. At least we know who they are."

"They were arrested shortly after you were. Since you were perceived as the instigator, OPR went for you first." Hughes answered the question.

"As curious as I am about how that interrogation went; a part of me doesn't want to know. I'm sure they pointed fingers at me to explain why they did it, didn't they?" Peter signed before shaking his head in frustration at the telling expression on Hughes' face. "How did they account for the differences between me in the office and the doppelganger outside of the office?"

"According to the reports, they said you were playing a role in the office, that you were a long-term mole in the system. They were to feed you information and assist you in whatever crimes you deemed necessary. Then as long as they worked well for you in the office and didn't damage your agenda, they were promised promotions and were free to commit crimes for their own profit on the side." Shaking his head, Hughes answered the question obviously on Peter's mind. "And no, they didn't know what that agenda was."

"So they were the ones who stole the painting we were investigating, and then someone tipped us off, possibly my doppelganger, for us to find them and Neal? It sounds like they were being used and the tip was to set me up to remove me from the picture for some reason." Peter speculated.

Frowning, Hughes locked his jaw to prevent himself from speaking.

"We were supposed to find Neal, weren't we?" Peter found himself feeling desperate for it to be confirmed.

"Peter." Hughes used his hands to try and signal Peter to calm down, if he continued to get agitated, then Hughes would be forced to leave. When Peter got the point and forced himself to portray calm, he signaled him to continue. "No, according to other recordings, Neal was left to die, and it was only a matter of time before they finished by disposing of his body. The tip was by someone other than your doppelganger who intended for us to find Neal before they succeeded. Apparently, they were looking out for Neal's safety, despite how bad the situation would look for you."

Widening his eyes, Peter realized that even though he hadn't been looking for Neal, others had been. Likely Neal's friends, the very same people who were endeavoring to protect him from the fallout. Running his hand through his hair, he knew he owed Caleb and Collin his thanks, they had to be involved with that in some way, and their action had saved Neal's life.

"Do you have theories as to who this anonymous person might be?" Hughes zeroed in on his body language.

"To be sure, no, but I have a few theories. Obviously, whoever it is, they're friendly to Neal, and not antagonistic towards me. They have enough reason to risk the chance of me being my doppelganger but are certain enough in our separate identities to protect me. There aren't too many people who would fit that." It was a rather short list, in fact, he could only think of Mozzie, Caleb, and Collin along with any unnamed people associated with them, like Caleb's wife.

"Mozzie has to be at the top of that list." Hughes guessed.

"Amongst others, we don't know all of the friends Neal's had in his life, only the few he's made known to us through chance or circumstances." Peter realized how little he knew about Neal's extended social circle. There were obviously some he hadn't previously known about with the reveal of Caleb and Collin, who else was waiting in the wings?

"You have a good point. Even you've never been able to trace him back to before his eighteenth birthday." Hughes mused on the idea.

"Time's up." The guard stepped forward to begin processing Peter for the return to his cell.

Saying goodbye, Peter was glad Hughes had visited and shared some of what was going on with him. It helped to have a better understanding of what was going on outside of the four walls of the prison.

Reaching his cell, he waited until he was alone to speak out for his protectors to hear. "Thanks, by giving us that tip, you saved Neal's life."

Going about his day, things followed his new pattern until he was pulled from his cell again. This time, instead of walking for the public room, he was taken through a different route, like he was being discharged.

Reaching the area by the front doors, he was released, given his civilian clothes, and led into the office area away from the main security. Standing in front of the OPR agents, he was surprised to see them looking less stern, but not pleased.

"Your fingerprints only show up on the transport box where the rescue footage shows you touching it. There is no presence of your fingerprints in any of the other locations touched by the torturer. Although you aren't clear, that gives enough reasonable doubt for you to be released on an anklet with continued suspension." Going through the procedures, they required Peter to remain in his radius, available and ran through the rest of the requirements that went with his release.

When they had finished, Peter was escorted out the door where his wife was waiting for him.

Hugging Elizabeth closely, he breathed her scent in and enjoyed the ability to hold her close for the first time in days. Then pulling back, he kissed her and said: "Hi, hon."

Smiling, Elizabeth was thrilled to have him back. "Hi, hon." She kept looking him over and lightly traced over his bruises showing her concern in a frown as she realized he wasn't unscathed.

Shifting her hand to where he could kiss it and then hold it close to his chest, Peter tried to reassure her. "Someone paid me a visit, but I had protectors. I'm fine, hon."

"Are you sure?" She looked worried as she turned her hand to hold his in return.

"I am. We aren't alone in this." Kissing her again, he shifted her into his side where they remained close but were able to walk. "Let's go home."

Leaning into him, Elizabeth didn't argue with him as she guided to where she had parked.

Taking the keys, Peter set her into the car before walking around to get into the driver seat. Then he pulled out and asked what she wanted to pick up for dinner on the way home. "You don't need to cook, and I don't want to eat out."

"Let's just go home and order in," Elizabeth suggested.

"Sounds good to me," Peter smiled while taking her hand in the middle of the car and resting their intertwined hands on the console. Navigating traffic, Peter asked her questions about what had been happening while he was in prison.

It took a little encouragement to get her mind off of his obvious injuries, but once she got going, she had quite a bit to tell him.

"I've only gotten to see Neal once. He's heavily guarded to prevent him from running, and to protect him from the attackers who did all this in the first place. Although the agents from your team were caught, the leader hasn't been apprehended." Glancing at him, she looked like she wanted to ask questions, but chose to continue talking about Neal instead. "He is looking better than when he was first put in the hospital. The drugs they put into his system have been seeping out fast enough for him to regain a lot of that awareness he usually has. They're probably going to put him through some physical therapy for a while since he doesn't appear to have walked in months. Based on the last comments I've heard from Mozzie, Neal was in that thing the entire time he was missing so he'll have to get his muscles working again."

"Do you know if they're putting him back into prison, or if he's going back onto his work release?" Peter asked to gather some more information. Since he was accused of hurting the kid, no one was officially allowed to tell him about Neal.

"Mozzie is fighting for his work release and says he has some good leverage in his favor to ensure that outcome." She talked through her various meetings with the con.

Then she transitioned to June with "Should he succeed, June says the apartment is just the way Neal left it." The discussion about June showed how she had been spending the duration of Neal's absence.

"She's been working to find Neal… Every social means in her power has been directed to looking for information. Then once Neal was found, she's redirected her focus to ensuring he is comfortable in the hospital with every amenity money can buy.

"Good… Good. Considering everything he's been through, I'm glad she's looking out for him." Peter sighed. "Has she talked about my doppelganger?"

"June doesn't blame you for hurting Neal either…" Elizabeth tried to reassure him.

"I'm that obvious, aren't I?" Peter smiled softly.

"Yes, you are. The person blaming you the most is you." Elizabeth tried to reassure him.

"And Neal," Peter sighed. "He believes I did it… At least on some level, because he told me to kill him to my face," His statement put a damper on the mood.

"Please honey, don't talk about him for a few hours. This is our first evening together since before Neal was found. Can we just have some time alone, to ourselves, without Neal distracting?" Elizabeth pleaded.

Looking over at his beautiful wife, Peter softened his expression. "I'm sorry, hon. It's not that I'm not thrilled to be alone with you… They, they left Neal for dead. He's only alive because someone other than me was watching out for him."

Getting tears in her eyes, Elizabeth squeezed his hand. "How…?"

"Hughes told me. According to the recordings, they tortured Neal, and then they put poison in the fluid lines to finish him off. However, someone tipped us off to ensure we found him." Squeezing her hand back, he tried to keep his emotions in control.

Moving her other hand to squeeze his arm, Elizabeth tried to comfort him. "I know this hasn't been easy for you, and it certainly hasn't been easy for Neal, but don't forget that it hasn't been easy for me either. Do you know what it's like to have your spouse thrown into prison for a crime they haven't committed, to be restricted from even being in contact, to know they were hurt?" As she finished, she gently touched his face indicating what she meant.

"No, and I can't imagine what this has been like for you." Peter parked the car in their driveway. "I get what you're saying. Neal's safe in the hospital, I've been cleared enough to be out on anklet… which I hope Neal teases me about later, so it's time to take a break from worrying. As of right now, I promise no more Neal tonight, just you and me. What do you say to some New York style pizza before cuddling on the couch?"

Leaning over, Elizabeth smiled into the kiss as Peter met her halfway. "You know my answer."

Kissing her again, Peter smiled. "I do."

With a parting kiss, Peter climbed out of the car to walk around and open the door for his wife. "This way my lady…" He walked her into the house where Satchmo greeted him with a wagging tail and many doggy kisses.

Settling in for the night, he enjoyed being at home with his wife and his dog.

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	7. Chapter 7

**Suspension Lifted**

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Riding the elevator up, it was the first time Peter had been in the Federal Building since before he had gone to pursue the lead on their painting case. Sighing, he was glad things were beginning to regain a sense of normalcy, even though he knew the situation wasn't over yet.

Thinking back to his time in suspension, when he was unable to leave a limited radius, visit Neal, or have anything to do with official work, Peter had been utterly bored. There were only so many 'honey-do' lists and conversations about the new client Mary Frost that he could take.

In an effort to keep him entertained, Elizabeth had regaled him with conversations about her hands on, particular, and the demanding client who insisted on accompanying her everywhere in order to get the details arranged for her event.

For a while, Mary proved a distraction as Peter tried to fit her into the puzzle slowly being revealed around him, but when he couldn't place her beyond the guess that she was connected to Caleb, it got more frustrating than distracting. If he was going to figure out who connected where, then he would need more pieces of the puzzle, and that wasn't happening fast enough.

The other means of distraction his lovely wife had tried to employ was projects around the house. They gave him something to do with his hands, and some of them took his mind off of his troubles for a little while. However, like everything else, it wasn't enough to last for long.

How could he ignore the anklet chaffing with every move, the best friend he wanted to apologize to, or the imposter making his life miserable? The truth was, Peter had too much on his mind to settle, and instead found himself often struggling to focus on his task if it wasn't engaging enough.

When things got too bad, Elizabeth called in the cavalry. This usually consisted of Mozzie who let him know how Neal was doing, hinted to efforts being made to handle the doppelganger, and generally annoyed him out of his funk with his usual banter about conspiracies.

One interesting point was when Mozzie mouthed a comment to himself unaware Peter could see his lips to read them. It was another piece Peter had added to his collection because it didn't make sense. 'I've heard rumors, but if they're right, then even a stake through the heart won't stop this guy.'

Did that mean he wasn't a vampire, or what? Why would people be stabbing his doppelganger through with a stake anyway? Asking Mozzie didn't do any good, because he just said it wasn't to be revealed yet.

With more puzzles and few answers, Peter stepped off of the elevator. Stopping in front of the glass doors leading to the office, he stood and watched the people buzzing around.

Jones was talking to Diana while they were working on something in a folder. Hughes was up in his office talking on the phone. Most of the office was buzzing about like normal. But then there was Neal. He was also back in the office having finished his medical leave and been cleared of the treasure with the reveal of the doppelganger turning suspicions onto Peter.

Focusing on his consultant, Peter knew it was going to be a rocky situation. Neal believed he only pretended to care about him, thought he had thrown him away, and reacted to him as his torturer.

According to Mozzie, Neal was having trouble putting his back to anyone and was often twitching or jumping at the slightest provocation. The Bureau was forcing him to seek help for his PTSD and Hughes had enforced desk duty to keep the consultant in the office until the situation had cleared up.

Knowing there was no sense in wasting any more time; Peter reached out and pushed the door open to walk in.

"Hey, boss." Jones greeted causing Diana to look up.

"Good to see you back, Peter." She smiled as she added to the greeting.

"It's good to be back. Things aren't all right yet, but at least some things are better." Peter's telling glance towards Neal indicated where his mind went. Neal hadn't even looked at him.

Taking a few moments to start filling him in on what had transpired in his absence, Jones and Diana were trying to make him feel welcome and attempted to distract him from Neal's lack of acknowledgment.

Then Hughes interrupted their conversation. "Burke." He barked to get his attention before double finger pointing towards his office. Not waiting for Peter, Hughes ducked back in and took his seat.

"I guess it's time to learn what parameters I'll be working under. Since we don't know what my doppelganger is up to, I'm not going to be back in the field yet either." Peter shrugged before glancing at Neal again and walking up the stairs.

Reaching Hughes' office, he was directed to close the door and take a seat.

"Is this about my working parameters?" Peter asked as a conversation starter.

"In part, but that was already discussed when you were released from the suspension. Since your fingerprints are not found on the capsule in any place beyond where you were recorded touching it during the rescue, and the other points touched by your doppelganger show a different set of identification, that got you released from prison on suspension. Then getting the footage sorted against your timetable and learning that you were often accounted for at other locations during the torture, and you were acquitted of the torture and treasure theft. However, since we still don't know what your doppelganger is trying to do, you are restricted to working in the office with the hopes of the added security preventing him from impersonating you officially." Hughes recounted the known details Peter was already aware of.

"Which leads me to my second reason for this meeting, there are several agencies watching what happens through this. We have undercover agents from multiple fields and divisions hidden who knows where." Hughes waved his hands about lightly. "I haven't been cleared to know any details, but I have heard whispers and rumors. This means you need to be careful, Peter. If they think you are your doppelganger, or if you do anything they find suspicious, it could go badly for you." The older agent warned.

Nodding his head, Peter had known others were watching, but he hadn't known about the official side. "Neal has friends involved too, like the guards who protected me in prison. People previously completely off of the radar are coming out to make sure this works out alright. Maybe some of them are official, or maybe they are in addition to these other agency representatives. However, there is no shortage of attention and mystery surrounding this."

Agreeing with him, Hughes knew it was a big case. "I want you to report to me every day. Keep me up to date on what's happening and what you can about what you know. We both know you won't share everything, but the more we know, hopefully, the more prepared we can be." Hughes made arrangements for daily meetings, but also left an opening for Peter to protect those helping them from the shadows.

Grateful for the understanding, Peter finished the meeting and got up to walk to his office. As he crossed the landing, he felt like he was being watched. Pausing to look down, he quickly found Neal's eyes on him.

With a softening expression, Peter looked sadly at his friend and nodded. He knew Neal wouldn't talk to him, but maybe he could convey some of his feelings.

At first, Neal only looked back at him, but after a moment he nodded quickly and returned to his work.

It wasn't forgiveness, but it was a start towards communication.

Continuing on to his office, Peter opened the door and relished the familiarity of returning to his domain. This was his space, his computer, his things, and hopefully, the doppelganger wouldn't be able to tarnish it by impersonating him here.

Sitting down to his desk, he started the computer up and began getting settled into work.

Through the morning, he felt like he was being watched from time to time, and it always turned out to be Neal. Peter would look up, and Neal would turn his head away. After the first few times, Peter knew who was watching him so he stopped looking up as much and let Neal do whatever he pleased. A glance of his own to acknowledge the consultant, and then he would continue to work.

If Neal wanted to stare at him from time to time to process the images running through his head, then Peter wasn't going to stop him. He only hoped the man would get his apprehensions dealt with and allow him to apologize someday.

As the day drew on, Peter once again felt Neal's eyes on him. Unable to speak to the man, he pulled out a piece of paper and started writing. Maybe if he wrote his apology out time and time again, he could work through some of his own guilt until he could actually tell Neal directly.

Jotting down the words, Peter let his emotions pour out.

'I'm so sorry, Neal. You never should have gone through this, and I can't help but feel like it's my fault since I didn't believe you when you told the truth. Maybe they wouldn't have gotten you if I hadn't sent you to prison? Maybe they would focus on framing me instead of hurting you in the process? It makes me sick to think of how they tortured you, it's so hard just writing that word in reference to what's been done to you, which is only made worse by the knowledge that they made you believe I wouldn't only be okay with condoning this behavior, but that I would actually participate in carrying it out! In reality Neal, I would never approve of this being done to anyone, let alone you. There is nothing you could ever do that would make a reaction like this okay. I understand why you don't want anything to do with me right now, but I hope you'll give me a second chance to prove that when you feel better.'

Finishing his note, Peter sat with his pencil resting on the paper. It didn't entirely help, but he did feel a little better for expressing his feelings with the hope Neal would read it someday.

Glancing down towards his consultant, Peter was surprised to see Neal not only watching him but that he continued to watch and didn't turn away as he had been.

Lifting an eyebrow, Neal seemed to question what he had been writing.

Peter tilted his head and made an expression to indicate that he had a lot he couldn't say. Then motioning his hand, he indicated writing before shrugging.

Jumping half out of his skin, Neal reacted to an agent passing too close when he was distracted. Spooked, he returned to his jittery state and didn't look towards Peter anymore because he was too busy watching the surroundings closer to his desk.

Sighing, Peter felt like he was taking two steps back every time he thought he might be making progress towards regaining Neal's trust. Slipping the letter to the side and putting it under his folders, he figured there wasn't much chance of the man reading it so he buried it under the piles of paperwork he still had to do.

Turning his focus onto said paperwork, Peter went to work for a while, but it was his turn to periodically check on Neal.

Glancing up every other folder or so, Peter noticed that Neal was being hypersensitive to what was going on around him. He glanced up whenever any sound didn't seem right to him, twitched when something louder happened like a phone ringing, and if he had to be up from his desk he didn't look comfortable. Walking with a stiff posture and roving eyes, he conveyed a coiled spring ready to jump into action while also being aware of everything going on around him. It wasn't his usual conman smooth operations, but it still befitted a man of his history and skills.

Then Neal was called into a meeting being held in the conference room. Since they were keeping Peter and Neal apart, only one was going to such meetings at a time and the team was alternating between who participated to keep it fair. This one was Neal's turn.

Going out to grab some lunch, Peter took his time while trying to shake the feeling that something was wrong. Neal was safe with the team, Neal's friends had Elizabeth protected, and there was nothing going on with him, so what could the issue be?

When it was time for him to return to the office, he noticed that most of the team was back to work, but Neal's desk was still empty.

"Where's Neal?" He asked Diana.

"He fell asleep in the meeting. We left him in the conference room leaned over against his hand." She shrugging lightly, Diana wasn't going to begrudge him a nap after everything he had been through. "If he feels safer here, then we aren't going to complain if he takes a nap or two while dealing with the after-effects of the torture they put him through."

Nodding, Peter glanced up towards the room in question and could easily imagine Neal leaning over against his fist while he slept through a boring meeting. Smiling lightly, he agreed with her before commenting "He would love the leeway to sleep through a meeting, but hopefully he doesn't expect it when life gets back to normal."

"Too bad I couldn't join him. With your doppelganger running around, we aren't doing much until the situation is cleared." Diana jested in return.

Interrupted by the sound of Neal leaving the conference room, they both looked up to see him walking out holding a hand to his eye.

Leaving Peter to watch from a distance, Diana went to check on their friend. Asking what happened, she pulled his hand down to look at his eye for herself.

Neal shrugged at Peter while he answered her question as to what happened. "I think I had a dream about Peter punching me, but I woke up on the floor with my eye hurting. Must've reacted to the dream and hit something when I fell out of the chair."

Turning around to look at Peter as well, Diana knew this meant another level of investigation into Peter and his doppelganger.

Hanging his head, Peter stood back away from Neal before allowing himself to be guided away by the investigating agents. With the open case going, they were waiting around the office for the slightest hint of the doppelganger and were handy the instant Neal mention the possibility that the mystery man had been inside the Bureau.

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	8. Chapter 8

**The Offer**

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Sitting through another interrogation, Peter was able to clear himself since he had the fingerprints matching his files, and a security video showed him in the park when the alleged attack occurred.

However, what everyone found disturbing, was the marks on Neal's face better matching the marks of a fist than the arm of a chair. Security footage showed a shadow in the room with him, but no sign of Peter entering the conference room. The doppelganger had entered the office and had evaded being caught.

This caused Neal to become even more distant and distrusting, so much so that even Jones and Diana weren't able to approach without causing a twitch or a reaction.

Pulling away, they kept a distance and the office turned into a hole of silence. People went about their work, but there wasn't bantering conversation, no one felt like laughing, and the work was barely being managed with the feeling of dread permeating the atmosphere. Something was happening around them, but the team wasn't sure what or how to react to the elusive threat.

Reaching a point where he was tired of watching Neal's maneuvers, it was genius how well he managed to avoid putting his back to anyone too close to him, Peter decided to do something about it.

Ducking into Hughes' office, he laid a document on the desk. "Am I over thinking this, or is this a good idea for him?" Peter stood in agitation while his boss picked up the document and began to read it over.

Recognizing it fairly quickly, Hughes lowered it and looked at Peter over the top. "Are you sure about this? Just because he wouldn't be with the team anymore doesn't mean it would remove him from being targeted by your doppelganger… it also means he could feel even more insecure working amongst people he doesn't know."

"I know, which is part of why I might be over thinking this, but shouldn't I at least give him the choice? Feeling trapped on the team while having so much distrust… it's got to be getting to him. He doesn't deserve to be thrown back into prison because I'm being targeted by someone who looks like me, but he shouldn't be forced to remain here where he obviously feels the need to protect himself from everyone." Peter was somewhere between growling in frustration and pleading in concern. His consultant spent his days doing minor paperwork and dealing with the repercussions of what had been done to him, but he no longer showed any almost friendly inclinations towards Peter. There wasn't the feeling of his eyes following him about, no silent conversations at a distance, instead, he would observe where he was and avoid him as thoroughly as possible.

Understanding Peter's plight, Hughes gave his approval. "Go ahead and give him the choice, then if he wants a transfer to another team, I'll do what I can to make it happen."

"Thank you, Reese." Peter looked grateful despite the hurt tone to his voice. He clearly wasn't thrilled at what the situation had come to.

"Just remember, whether he takes it or not, doesn't mean he'll be protected from your doppelganger. We didn't know about him until it became apparent he was responsible for torturing Neal. It's entirely possible you are both targets being attacked in different ways." Hughes warned. This was a strange situation and no one knew what to expect of it.

Sighing, Peter knew he was right, but there wasn't much that could be done. "There's no winning in this it seems…"

"We'll work through this, but it's going to take time." Hughes tried to provide what little comfort he could.

Nodding, Peter left his office and took the walk down towards Neal's desk. The con man wasn't there so it was the perfect time to make his approach. Since Peter had agreed to take the deal, it made sense that he should be the one to offer the alteration. Whether Neal would accept or not would depend on him.

Turning to leave the office, Peter went home for the evening.

Although Neal had received his offer to transfer handler and teams, Peter had yet to hear anything from him. The man seemed to be contemplating his odds or making plans on how to take advantage of the transfer. Whatever he was doing, he hadn't turned the form in or handed it back as rejected.

Uncertain of what to do, Peter endeavored to continue working like nothing had changed, but that wasn't possible. He found himself checking with Hughes on a daily basis to see if the form had been turned it, watching Neal whenever he was working at his desk, and fretting over what might be running through his consultant's head.

Fortunately, there wasn't much work to disrupt. They were only doing cold cases and any backlogged paperwork that needed to be managed. It kept them busy and barely useful, but it was safer than having the doppelganger manipulate something or for any other agents to pull off some secret agenda.

The days passed, and although the monotony was getting to the team, the case wasn't making enough progress for OPR and the investigators to feel satisfied.

Walking into the Bureau, Peter pushed the button for his floor and stood with some other agents preparing to ride up to the appropriate offices. Stepping into the car when the doors opened, Peter felt his gut tingling when only three others besides himself were present. Not understanding why he said his floor to the man pressing the buttons and tried to keep some distance from the strangers.

When the elevator dinged for the sixteenth floor and the doors opened to reveal a mirror image of himself, Peter knew he was in trouble.

Using his surprise, two the men in the elevator grabbed him while the third slid a needle into his neck.

Feeling the sluggish workings of his brain, Peter knew it wasn't entirely knocking him out, but it was making him unable to fight what they were doing.

Moving quickly and efficiently, the men escorted Peter off of the elevator and into an empty conference room. There they stripped him of his suit and replaced it with a prison jumpsuit. While the three men were occupied with that, his doppelganger put his suit on and adjusted his hair to match Peter's look. Throwing in the finishing touches, the men chained Peter, duct taped his mouth and put a masking cover over his head to obscure his identity for their transportation.

"Now we can complete the mission. I'll impersonate Burke here and set him up for the fall guy. Then if Caffrey gets in our way, we'll take out his family. This should be simple and straightforward." The doppelganger gave his orders and directed the group on their way.

Having changed to pose as prisoner transport Marshalls, the men split up with two guiding Peter towards his office while the third departed to arrange their getaway.

While they rode the elevator up towards his floor, one of the guards leaned in towards Peter and whispered a threat. If he didn't comply by walking with them or if he tried to signal one of his team, then Neal Caffrey was dead, and maybe Mrs. Burke too.

Unable to fight them with the drug in his system, Peter was forced to comply for the moment.

As the elevator dinged the twenty-first floor, Peter felt the two men beside him move closer and walk him out of the car. Turning into the White Collar Offices, Hughes was there by the door fending off the investigating agents with the remark that a call had been placed. Peter needed to retrieve some document from his office for the agents transporting a criminal so he was only doing a quick task pertaining to an active case. With the cover in place, the doppelganger hurried up to Peter's office and began working on his computer.

Meanwhile, the real Peter stood drugged and bound standing on the floor below forced to watch in still silence. Although he could move to walk, the drug made him too relaxed to move beyond the necessary and the tape prevented him from speaking clearly even if he tried.

Time seemed to pass slowly. It was only a few minutes, but the circumstances made it drag out like hours.

Then Elizabeth walked into the office from behind him. Listening, Peter heard her tell the agents he had forgotten his lunch before she was directed up to his office.

Mentally kicking himself, Peter wished he had remembered to grab the bag from the counter. It was deviled ham and his favorite, something she had made in the hopes of cheering him up.

Watching helplessly, he saw her cross the office, walk up the stairs, and head towards his office.

Once she was about to reach the door, the doppelganger opened it and moved to exit the office with his nose in a file of documents.

Taking one look at him, Elizabeth seemed to sense the difference and moved away from him towards the conference room at her back.

"Hi, Elizabeth, what's in the bag?" The doppelganger pretended to notice her and smiled happily.

Blinking, Elizabeth's eyes were wide and she clearly didn't know what to do.

Sensing something off, the entire office stopped to look up at the landing while the fake guards moved closer to Peter to ensure he couldn't escape.

The man took one step forwards towards Elizabeth, and then the conference room door was yanked open by a furious Neal.

Striding forward to stand in the middle, Neal poked the paper into the doppelganger's chest. "You know what, Peter? I think I will take you up on that offer of transfer, I don't want to work with you again, ever!"

Horrified, Peter was afraid. Not only was his doppelganger impersonating him in the office for some crime, but he had both Elizabeth and Neal right in front of him, within his reach where he could easily hurt either of them, if not both. It didn't help that their plan to alienate Neal appeared to have worked because he had just fulfilled one of Peter's worst fears by asking for a transfer. He was losing his best friend.

"I'll have this turned in shortly." The doppelganger promised before moving toward the stairs. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get these documents to the transport agents."

"You didn't read the name on the paper," Neal sneered while standing in his way.

Complied to look, the man lifted the form and read through what Neal had written. His eyes opened a bit wider and his posture froze for just a moment, then he readjusted to whatever had been written there. "Are you certain you want to do this? There are risks involved…" His voice lowered to threatening.

"Everything is just… peachy, or at least that's the circumstances according to an old friend, so yes, yes I want to do this, Kieran." Neal planted his feet while remaining between the man and Elizabeth.

Fixated on what was happening, Peter didn't know what Neal meant but hoped Caleb and the others had managed to remove the threat against his family. Because according to what had been said on the sixteenth floor, it was Neal's family at stake.

Dropping the document and his stance, the man faced Neal while allowing his voice to change into a rougher, more dangerous tone. "So, you aren't his doppelganger after all."

"You do know you aren't going to get away with this, don't you? Chuck has my family so your leverage there is gone. I'm between you and Mrs. Burke." Then Neal pulled a tranquilizing pistol out from behind his back to shoot the two agents holding Peter. "And your men no longer have hands-on access to Peter."

"You can't stop it, it's already done, and we both know our training means no prison can hold us forever." The man apparently named Kieran, took a threatening step towards Neal.

"Are you sure you successfully accomplished your mission? I'm protégé to a particular someone…" Neal seemed to be alluding to secrets that only made sense to him and this Kieran. "You only messed with the false mainframe. The FBI database is still secure, and you only have my creative writing to show for all of this effort. It would seem the organization invested a great deal into you, but you couldn't control me, weren't able to kill me when that became obvious, didn't give them the treasure, failed to frame Burke, or didn't even manage to get them the data you were sent in for. They probably aren't going to be overly forgiving of your failures."

Whipping a knife out from behind his back, Kieran sliced at Neal's arm trying to cut him. Then with his other arm, the flicked a syringe full of liquid at Neal.

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	9. Chapter 9

**Reuniting**

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Moving to protect Elizabeth, Neal wasn't given much choice. Either he held his ground allowing the needle to pierce him, or he moved to allow Elizabeth to be hit. Taking the needle in his arm, he knew he was likely allowing Kieran to dose him up with the drug concoction again.

Fending off the attack, Neal managed to prevent the plunger from being pushed down much before he pulled the needle out. Then he tossed it aside for later evidence. "It didn't kill me any of the other times I've ended up in those medical transports. By the way, did the Ring have a going out of business sale and your new bosses decide to pick up you and some extra gear for a cheaper price?"

"Did you choose to go from a world-renowned hero to playing a measly con, or was that all you were good for after the last time you were nearly killed?" Kieran growled in response.

"Ooh, burn… I got under the skin with that one didn't I. Maybe the organization should have hired more goons to support you. Last I heard, attempting to murder defenseless little girls was more your style, but then, even a five-year-old was beyond your reach."

Terrified, Peter could only watch as Neal and this man maneuvered back and forth in a standoff. Neal was between Elizabeth and Kieran, which also meant he was between Kieran and escape. There hadn't been much of a physical fight beyond the needle and knife, but they seemed to be in a verbal match of insults to see who would physically weaken first. The odds weren't in Neal's favor considering he'd been injected with something, but he seemed determined to hold his own.

"I don't see your ex here to protect you, or that friend of yours and the rest of his team. What makes you think you can stop me?" Kieran tried to play the game back, but he didn't have the same level of insults to take Neal down. Rushing forwards, Kieran made his move on Neal and tried to gain an advantage.

Holding his ground, Neal got the knife away from Kieran before delivering a series of blows forceful enough to send the agent staggering backward. "Aww, and you think I need them to protect me? They've been busy protecting my friends and family, but I can take care of myself. The bigger question is who is going to protect you to help you escape?" Neal turned the question back.

Knowing he was in trouble, Kieran shifted to show he was biting something in his teeth. Then as he choked and dropped to the ground, white foam started showing out of his mouth.

Covering her mouth with her hands, Elizabeth was trying not to scream. His eyes were glued to Kieran and she had tears streaming down her face.

Beckoning Hughes out of his office where he had been watching the events from behind, Neal directed him towards Elizabeth. "Take her down below and don't let go of her, this isn't over." Then turning towards Jones and Diana, he double finger pointed them to Peter. "Release their hostage from his bonds."

Standing still, Peter didn't react when Jones and Diana removed the hood that had been obscuring his identity.

"Which one is Peter?" Diana automatically asked while looking back and forth between him and his doppelganger.

Unable to answer, Peter only hoped Neal knew who he was dealing with.

"The one not trying to kill me," Neal answered with a sarcastic undertone. The answer seemed to be obvious in his opinion, but everyone else was full of questions.

"Not helpful, Caffrey," Diana's tone had a bite of stress to it. She didn't feel comfortable dealing with two people who looked alike while knowing one was friend with the other foe.

Providing a more definite answer, Neal pointed. "Peter is the one standing in the chains between you since Kieran probably wanted him handy so he couldn't blow his cover. Meanwhile, Kieran is the one playing possum on the floor." Lightly kicking his shoe, Neal rolled his eyes with a slight snort and a mutter, 'I'm not falling for this again,' that Peter only caught from reading his lips.

"How do you know how to tell them apart?" Jones asked while undoing the chains around Peter's hands.

"Kieran here was my handler several years ago… once I learned there were two of them I made sure Peter had nothing to do with Kieran and learned how to tell them apart in the event something like this should ever happen," Neal shrugged as he answered.

Distracted for a moment, Peter waited while Jones and Diana finished removing the chains before helping him over to a chair and sitting him down. Elizabeth moved to lean on the desk beside him as he wasn't moving much which made her worried and uncomfortable.

"It's alright Elizabeth, they tend to use a drug for their hostages that keeps them docile and almost unable to move. Peter will be fine once it wears off." Neal reassured from above.

The room was still generally frozen in shock as the team hadn't recovered from the recent events yet. Directing the few who began to move to remain in place, Neal stood on the landing surveying the room. "It looks like everyone is safer this time. I guess it's as good a time as any for round two." Pulling a needle out of his jacket, Neal plunged it into Kieran's chest before injecting the contents.

Jumping backward as Kieran quickly recovered, Neal worked to evade a slower attack.

"I'm curious, how did it feel when you held the future and stability of the entire world in your hands? Was it heady, like Atlas carrying the fate of humanity?" Kieran taunted, but Peter couldn't understand what he was getting at.

"It felt like I was going to die," Neal kept it simple and pulled a stunt to prevent Kieran from distracting him.

Sneering, Kieran wasn't impressed. "For your reputation as such a hero, I don't know why the bosses tried to recruit you. You could have done anything, but like the good little straight-laced agent you are, you sacrificed yourself for a bunch of idiots who will never know what you did for them."

Smiling, Neal wasn't bothered by the belittling attitude. "Probably the same reasons the government recruited me for. Besides, I know what I did, and the rest don't matter."

Throwing caution to the wind, Kieran turned lethal battling for supremacy.

Getting more focused on his combat, the banter seemed to be over so Neal gave nearly as good as he got. His technique wasn't focused on being so lethal, more of a defensive series of moves to prevent the fight from turning deadly.

Losing a move, Kieran fell down the stairs. Reaching the bottom, he righted himself fairly quickly only losing a moment for the short flight. Showing intent to go after Peter, he started moving across the room.

Flipping over the railing, Neal reached the ground faster and cut off his avenue of escape. Then tossing his tranquilizing gun to Jones, he gave a terse command. "Shoot the guards; otherwise they'll probably come around again soon."

Frowning slightly, Jones turned his attention to the guards before shooting each man. "Take off the other guy's watch." He instructed Diana while he handled the one nearest to him. "They seem to be shocking them back into consciousness."

Working together, they had the agents cuffed and were back to focusing on the fight within a few moments.

Peter caught this from his peripheral, but his focus was still on Neal fighting with his doppelganger.

Kieran was caught between his desire to hurt Neal, to hurt Peter, and to cut his losses and run. Each time he tried to fulfill one of those desires; Neal blocked his path or fended off his attack. Reaching a point of desperation, Kieran took off running towards the doorway hoping to escape.

Peter didn't want to see him escape so he stopped breathing in anxiety as he watched the attempt. Kieran had already caused a great deal of trouble, he needed to face charges for his crimes and allow those he tried to hurt to get on with their lives. He didn't want to live in fear knowing the man could resurface at any time to hurt Neal, his wife, or make his life complicated again.

Stepping off of the elevator, Peter recognized Caleb meeting Kieran at the doorway to the office. "Peaches," he smiled before decking the opponent before him.

As Kieran dropped to the ground, Caleb pulled his own tranquilizing gun out to shoot him… several times. Then he looked up at the observing office. "What? He tried to murder my sister in law, has messed with my wife, tortured my best friend, hurt his friends, and held his entire family as a hostage against him in an effort to manipulate him into being a criminal." With an indifferent shrug, he put the gun away. "It isn't like it'll hurt him at all. They're just tranquilizing darts so he'll remain unconscious longer."

Snorting and rolling his eyes, Neal seemed amused by Caleb. "That's so like you, Chuck." Then he waved to the agents about the room indicating that the situation had been resolved enough for them to react.

Teaming up, several agents split up to transport the unconscious men down to the holding cells.

Remaining in the chair, Peter watched as Hughes patted him on the shoulder before leaving to help manage the arrests of the agents with OPR. Jones and Diana remained loyally by his side to offer their support while Peter still couldn't move much and Elizabeth was shaking beside him.

Across the room, Neal and this stranger seemed to be engaged in a coded conversation, but only Jones seemed to be minding it.

"What is my family doing here?" Neal suddenly blurted as he noticed a group of people waiting outside the doors. "They aren't supposed to know I'm alive!"

Waving at the group, Chuck answered. "Since they've been being held as hostages against you, they knew you were alive but didn't understand what was happening. Your parents, sister, and brother in law deserve to know who you really are. Besides, after having saved my life, years of protecting my father and his 'third-best creation,' having helped protect my extended family, and all the sacrifices you've made since joining the agency, it doesn't hurt for you to get something of your family and friends back. Call it returning the favor." The man grinned happily at Neal's bewildered expression.

"Chuck…?" Neal looked like he didn't know what to say.

"Stop it. You've been integral to taking down most of the organizations that have plagued our families for nearly thirty years. Although it isn't safe enough to ignore the threat, you can stand for who you really are and enjoy having a support system of people who care about you around." Chuck continued to smile.

Sighing, Neal apparently couldn't fight this battle. "How many other rogue agents are left in the building?"

"How do you know I stayed in the business and am still a guardian?" Chuck bantered back, "You've been out of touch since the last time they nearly killed you and stuck you in one those stupid medical transport boxes."

"I was named 'Agent in Charge' of the… special project, now wasn't I? In addition to being your counterpart and protégé of your father, I know something of what is going on pertaining to the operation." Neal countered even though he had air quotes with his title.

"True…" Chuck frowned. "Let's just say, there are believed to be a few more, but they haven't been verified as connected yet. The organizations have all had deep cover traitors so it's hard to prove or disprove associations."

"You've definitely grown more cynical, you know that?" Neal frowned in response to the answer.

"What do you expect when supposedly one of the 'good' guys tells me that your near deaths, my father's death, my mother being trapped undercover in the enemy for years, and so on is all just a game of chess, that no matter what we do, we are simply fighting the pawns as we are no more than pawns ourselves? It's difficult to fend of cynicism in such circumstances as that." Chuck shook his head like he was trying to avoid going into dark memories. "Then there are people like you who take the blame for things they never did, give everything they have for the cause, and keep on fighting when they have nothing left because they won't go down as long as they have the strength to keep trying." Smiling sadly at Neal, Chuck softened his tone from where it had been rising in emotion. "You once said that the situation I was being drafted for would destroy me, that I don't have the heart for that kind of life. Well, you're right. That's why I officially left the agency and now work freelance, but I still do a lot of contract work for the government where I'm not such a puppet since I can choose which battles to fight."

Looking a little sick, Neal wasn't happy with that. "So you allowed yourself to be coerced back into everything for me?"

Getting irritated, Chuck let his voice rise again. "No, Neal. I chose to be an honorary Director Special Agent with no badge but authority due to past experience in order to help out a friend. But if helping you protect your family required picking up a badge and reentering the playing field officially, you can bet I would; just like you took two bullets, over a year and a half of captivity between the two events, and six months of torture to help protect my family. I know you took on the entire government to protect me back in college… I saw the recording, but I am able to hold my own ground now so I only need support or assistance. You can ease up on the whole protective big brother thing, buddy because you already helped me find what I needed."

Relaxing his shoulders while Chuck seemed to be getting riled up, Neal smiled softly. "Good to hear. I never did like the idea of you losing yourself to the job, and I'm glad you were able to help the rest of the team find their humanity again too."

"You've talked to them?" Chuck looked confused.

"No. Wildcard was my partner and girlfriend while the cold school killer used to rival me in the field because he didn't like my 'pathetic' means of completing a mission. You were my roommate for four years of college and I worked several more years in the field with your father. I know a little about the lot of you so it isn't hard to imagine the 'Chuck effect' getting to them eventually." Neal seemed to calm down even more, to the point of almost laughing at his friend's expression.

Chuck look puzzled. "Chuck effect?"

"Yeah, the effect that people like you have in common. It's what an honest man can do to a hardened agent used to guarding their back against everyone, including the allies. You're the type of agent that a person can learn to let their guard down around which is a strength and a weakness. A strength because everyone needs someone to have their back and honest people are best for that, but a weakness because others see that trust as a target." Neal's eyes flickered in Peter's direction giving him hope. Maybe Neal wasn't so upset with him… could it be possible, that his comments were a part of his show to trap Kieran?

Relaxing again, Chuck seemed to be satisfied with the answer. "I believe there is an FBI agent over there who has become your other best friend, and although he probably can't talk right now, I bet he would like to know you're going to catch up with him later before you go spend some time with your family."

Neal turned to look at Peter, but there was still a look of reservation in his eyes. Although Peter couldn't talk, Neal wasn't ready to.

Feeling sad, Peter knew he didn't know his friend nearly so well as he had thought, but he wasn't going to hurt him anymore. Flicking his eyes, he directed that Neal should go be with his family.

Nodding, Neal turned to walk out of the office to his family while Chuck followed after.

* * *

Thank you, everyone, for reading, reviewing/commenting, leaving kudos, following my stories and I, and choosing to favorite:D


	10. Chapter 10

**Resolution**

* * *

Arriving at work early, Peter gave his statement to the investigating agents and then went to the conference room that was functioning as his workspace while his office was a crime scene.

It wasn't long before the rest of the team arrived followed by Neal coming in to give his statement. As Neal walked through the room, the agents around him fell silent. No one congratulated him, there weren't any conversations started, and everyone showed body language of shame or embarrassment.

Sighing as he watched the proceedings, Peter knew the team was feeling tongue-tied. Like him, they had accused Neal of theft, lying, betrayal, and generally being a horrible person. Then when the reveal came about, they learned that he was actually a deep cover agent, nothing like they thought he would actually be, and no one knew what to say to that.

* * *

Since the attack needed the assistance of a few more agents who had yet to be identified, the team worked together to bait them into the open. Per the arrangement, Neal was directed to play the part and be arrested for his alleged crimes.

Using what they had available, the team accused Neal of taking advantage of the situation to manipulate the FBI database in his favor. The story was that his file was full of criminal information before the hack, and the evidence against him was no longer present after. It made it look like he could be guilty or framed but provided enough evidence for him to be arrested for investigation.

Performing the arrest, the team took him to the interrogation rooms where he was grilled for a few hours by the visiting agents who were leading the investigation.

Once they were done, he was marched through the building heading for transport to prison. Considering what had happened before, they provided a larger guard to reduce the odds of infiltration by persons with an agenda. However, they endeavored to ensure a slight weakness, a means to encourage the agents to attack when and where they wanted them to.

Watching the procession from the security station, the story was that Peter provided support for his consultant's transfer while retaining distance after the attacks of his doppelganger.

Nearing the trap, the team encountered two agents who appeared to be performing their duties while discussing case files. Splitting up as they walked around the guards, the two agents each shot a dart out from under their folders to hit Neal from both angles of attack. Pretending nothing happened, they almost managed to reach the hallway behind where their escape route was, but Peter called over the radio directing the agents to be arrested and for Neal to be given medical attention.

In response, the guards split up with some aiding in the capture of the agents, while the rest handled the situation with Neal as he crumpled to the ground.

No longer watching the feed, Peter ran through the hallway listening to the radios as orders were barked and Neal's condition was described. Based on his initial reactions, he had been given an overdose of the drugs previously used in the attempt on his life.

Afraid of what that could mean, Peter needed to see Neal for himself, to ensure he was going to live through the attack.

Reaching the hallway, Peter pushed his way through the agents guarding the scene to pause when he reached the edge of the huddle surrounding Neal.

Standing there, he could hear the sound of Neal as he roughly drug each breath in, the concerned voices of the medics tending him as they stated the rapidly deteriorating state of his health, and his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Then coming out of the fog, Peter wanted to follow Neal to the hospital but was restrained from even getting a good look at his consultant.

Insisting on being kept up to date, Peter was forced to return to the conference room to help process the success of the operation.

* * *

It was two days before Neal was stable enough to receive visitors. Two days of worry and fear, time Peter spent trying to get permission to see his friend.

The brass was afraid Peter would make Neal's recovery falter, but they also understood that he wasn't his doppelganger and was genuinely concerned for his consultant. In honor of Neal's previous reports about Peter, the bosses granted him five minutes. Enough time for him to see his friend, but hopefully not enough time for him to upset Neal.

Agreeing to the many rules and stipulations set by Neal's bosses, Peter was willing to do whatever it took to be reassured that Neal was recovering and would be alright.

Entering the hospital room, Peter looked around and saw the many machines hooked up to Neal. They were monitoring everything or managing his basic bodily functions while he was still delirious. Blinking back the moisture pooling in his eyes, Peter was upset by the failure aspect of their operation. He had failed to protect his consultant, and Neal had nearly paid with his life.

"Why would you cry over me?" Neal muttered while looking over at him.

Aware that Neal perceived him as a hallucination, Peter still choked on the emotions his words caused. Running his hand over his mouth, he tried to ease the growing emotions that were making it hard to express what Neal's words did to him. "I'm crying over you because I care, Neal. I care that you were hurt, that your family was held as hostages against you, that you were forced to play something you aren't, that I missed seeing the depth of who you are, that I failed to protect you, I care that I turned my back on my partner and one of the best friends I've ever had. Neal, I care so much about you… You don't deserve any of this, and I'm sorry for everything I've done. It's understandable if you can't forgive me, but I apologize, for everything." Putting his hand on the bed next to Neal's arm, Peter was aware that he couldn't touch Neal, that it would hurt the man, so he watched as Neal blinked before turning away towards the window.

Hearing the guard duck in and instruct that his time was up, Peter tapped his hand against the mattress. "Feel better, Neal." Giving one last sad look towards his friend, Peter walked out the door to the waiting guard before heading home.

* * *

Neal was gone for several weeks. The time seemed to drag on for Peter since he wasn't distracted by his own incarceration or the problems his doppelganger created. They had been resolved.

Kieran had disappeared into a deep hole somewhere courtesy of the CIA, and each agent involved had been dealt with by their respective agencies.

With nothing else to do, Peter dropped another transfer form on Neal's desk and went back to work on active cases.

* * *

When Neal returned for a visit and to give his statement on the attack, the room fell awkwardly silent again. There hadn't been much time to rectify the situation between him and the agents so the issues hadn't gone anywhere.

Watching as Neal stood uncomfortably by his desk poking around at the papers piled on top, Peter felt the need to assist in rectifying the issue. Walking down from the landing, he approached Neal cautiously.

"You know… this wasn't my first go round. People keep acting like I can't take it, but for your information, I've been put through the box torture twice before, the last time I was clinically killed I was shot in the back because there was a traitor in my protection team, and Kieran was once my handler. Rogue law enforcement has been a threat or trying to kill me since I was three." Neal shuffled random things around as he spoke.

Pausing to see what was coming next, Peter didn't want to interrupt the first explanation Neal had given since the whole crazy mess with Kieran had occurred on the landing behind them.

Slowing down his shuffling to pick up one piece of paper, Neal stopped talking. His posture stiffened and his breathing stuttered.

"What I get tired of though, is how good of an actor I appear to be. Something tells me I will never stop being a con here." Then he slapped the paper back down on the desk before storming out through the glass doors.

Moving forward with his jaw working, Peter helplessly watched Neal jab the button for the elevator before hurrying into the car.

Unable to understand what caused it, Peter stepped forward towards the desk. Reaching out to finger the papers, he tried to determine which one had caused the upset. Then he touched the one that had slid slightly beneath three others. Tapping his fingers on the paper, Peter was hesitant to know what it was. The odds were that it linked back to him.

Sighing, there was no avoiding the inevitable. Lifting the paper up and flipping it over, he skimmed the numbers and first paragraph. Dropping it back on the desk, he had known it was going to link back to him.

It was the transfer form.

Peter wondered what Neal meant with his reaction to it. Was he just angry with him, did he not want to leave the team, or was it general frustration that caused his statement and angry exit?

"Are you okay?" Diana asked from his elbow.

"No... No, we're not." Peter didn't even bother with his usual lie that everything was okay between him and Neal, a fact that indicated just how bad things were between them.

"His statement did seem rather pointed. Has it crossed your mind that maybe he doesn't want to leave the team?" Jones asked joining them on Peter's other side.

"Yes, Hughes and I've talked about how he might prefer to remain with our team. In the past he's always been more accepted here than in other departments, he knows our people so he has less reason to worry about us hurting him, and he chose to make an agreement with me. However, as recent events have shown, I blamed him for a crime my doppelganger committed, I sent him back to prison and literally turned my back on him the night El was abducted, and for three months he's also been tortured by someone who looks exactly like me. That's enough reason for him to want away from me. Then in the office, he's had trouble putting his back to the team in general and things have been awkward since he's been back. All things considered, I wouldn't blame him if he wanted to transfer to another team for the remainder of his time here. Most of all, I don't want him to feel like he is constricted to this department whether he likes it or not, I want him to have the freedom of choice where he completes his assignment." Shrugging slowing, Peter wished he could explain it all to Neal. "He's been through enough; I don't want to hurt him anymore."

The silence behind him was broken by small murmurs of agreement. Everyone understood where he was coming from.

"Have you tried talking to Neal, to see what it is he would like to do?" Diana inquired softly while reaching out to put her hand on Peter's arm in support. "I know he hasn't talked to you and has done a masterful job of keeping to himself, but maybe it's time to break the silence and take the next step. He's shown his frustration that he thinks we only see him as a criminal, so it's time to remind him of the other ways we see him. We all need to do some reparation work, but you are the reason he chose us in the first place."

Hanging his head, Peter knew the weight rested on his shoulders. "No, I haven't really tried talking to him yet. I was hoping to ask to give him a ride home or something to start, but he found the form and stormed out before I got to him."

"My suggestion is that you give him the evening to work some of his anger out, but you need to talk to him first thing in the morning. I think there are several of us who will be finding our own times to pull him aside for a chat, but you need to fix things with him first." Diana didn't sound like she was suggesting so much as gently ordering.

"Yes, ma'am, I promise that I will talk to Neal first thing in the morning." Peter cheered up a little bit for her directive.

"Good, just don't take all day. There are others of us who would like to get our friendships back with him as soon as possible." She smiled in return before patting him on the arm.

"That goes ditto for me too." Jones encouraged from the other side.

Nodding in acknowledgment, Peter bid the team good night before leaving as well. He had an important conversation to prepare for.

* * *

Thank you, everyone, for reading, reviewing, leaving kudos, and following :D


	11. Chapter 11

**Reparations**

* * *

Walking in to June's the next morning, Peter tried to shake the remnants of his nightmares off. His imagination had conjured all sorts of horrible ways his intended conversation could go badly which didn't make for an encouraging way to start the day.

Greeting June as he walked up, Peter asked about how Neal's evening went. The news wasn't favorable. He had spent it alone in his room moping about and refusing even June's company.

"This is my fault. I blamed him for the theft of the treasure… and then everything that has happened since certainly hasn't helped." Peter lamented.

Endeavoring to encourage him, June left him on the landing sending him on to Neal's apartment alone. "You two need to talk. I'll have breakfast sent up to the balcony within the hour so don't let him use cooking as a distraction."

Thanking her for her kind efforts, Peter agreed to the plan before continuing on his way.

Knocking quietly, Peter didn't want to give Neal the chance to send him away. They needed this talk, whether Neal liked it or not.

Opening the door to let himself in, Peter took a cursory look around. The space seemed the same, and yet so different. With Neal's reveal of his agent identity, the place had a few small additions of personal items, folders of other agency work piled on the table, and the rumor of a secret safe being installed to keep his badge and service weapon on site. Despite his reveal, June had allowed him to make the necessary alterations and permitted him to remain in the loft. She had a few reservations of an agent, but no qualms about him as a person.

The presence of a half-empty bottle and two glasses in the sink was a good indicator as well. Although Peter hadn't seen the little guy, he was glad the man had stuck around.

Pausing in his snooping, Peter realized that Mozzie had likely known Neal's secret for some time, if not all along. There hadn't been any sudden appearances with rants about Neal's reveal, he had mentioned his connection to other friends when he interviewed Peter in prison, and he had been supporting Neal through all of this when the others couldn't get close enough.

Smiling slightly with the certainty, Peter was glad Neal hadn't been left without support through the recent ordeals; he just wished he had personally played a happier role in aiding with that support.

That brought him to the corner where he could view the bed.

Neal was still stretched out on the bed wearing pajama pants and a tee shirt. He appeared to be asleep, but the messy state his blankets were in didn't tell a happy story. Clearly, his night had been restless and he probably wasn't going to be happy with the intrusion.

Breathing deeply, Peter walked over to the bed and started reaching his hand out towards Neal's shoulder but stopped when the man started speaking.

"That wasn't supposed to be out loud, let alone in Peter's presence. He isn't happy with me at the moment, is he? Why couldn't I keep my big mouth shut?" Neal shifted in his dream like he was trying to avoid someone's response. "I don't care that I've been tortured. It isn't like it's the first time, and I'm trained to handle things like this. I could have kept my mouth shut if I knew he was actually standing in front of me so it wasn't all accountable to the drugs."

Dropping his hand, Peter tried to place what Neal was talking about. Then he remembered when he had found Neal. The kid had said some hurtful things about him. Did that mean he hadn't been aware of his presence otherwise he would have kept his pain to himself? Or did he mean he hadn't been able to control the pain so he said it despite his wish to hide it from Peter?

Rolling over, Neal moved away from Peter and must have changed his dream, because his words changed.

"Do I have to scream it at you… what is it going to take for you to hear me, Peter? Am I really such a bad person that you so easily believe I would steal a treasure, withhold it despite the danger to El, and on top of that, run? Why can't you believe the simple truth that I never stole the reassure?" Neal's voice was solid like he'd thought about the words a lot.

Beginning to chicken out, Peter pulled the transfer form out of his pocket and stuck the note on top of it. He was trying to apologize and explain… but hearing what Neal was saying in his sleep made him afraid to talk to him directly.

"I know the note says it, and you deserve to hear it from me… but it's hard to talk to you after everything I've done to you." Reaching down to put his hand on Neal's hair, Peter shifted his finger lightly to avoid disturbing the sleeping man.

Turning to walk away, Peter tried to blink back the spreading tears in his eyes. He took a step away when he felt his hand get caught by another's.

"Peter…" Neal's voice was surprised and sleepy. "What are you doing here?"

"Yesterday, at the office, you said you were only a con here and that's all you would ever be. That isn't true." Peter twitched his fingers not sure why Neal was still holding him in place by his hand. "The transfer form isn't for me. It's for you."

"Do you think I need your permission to change teams? I'm an undercover agent, Peter. I would simply need to set things up with Washington." Neal sounded more awake although his tone had shifted to confusion.

"No, I know you don't need my permission. However, you suggested our partnership and I accepted, considering the circumstances, it only seems fitting that I give you the choice of whether you want to continue with it or not." His voice was starting to shake, but Peter refused to let his emotions get the better of him. Neal deserved to hear this, and he wasn't going to give the man reason to send him away now that they were finally talking.

"What circumstances?" Neal sounded genuinely confused.

"You can't seriously be asking me that question…" Peter wanted to be angry and started to get a growl to his voice, but then he deflated on a breath. Maybe Neal was trying to torment him by making him state his crimes.

"Yes, I can. What circumstances?" Neal got a bit of an angry tone to his voice like he was rising to a bait Peter hadn't intended to set.

"All of the circumstances. When the piece of that painting landed at my feet… I only initially picked it up out of curiosity. What was it? Then I saw the details and placed it as being identical to your painting. It felt like you had stuck a knife in my heart and I immediately jumped to the conclusion that you had stolen the treasure. I was so angry… for months. When Elizabeth was taken I felt like you had utterly betrayed me and I couldn't handle the pain that caused so I pushed you away. And, you're right, I didn't look for you, at all. Like I've said before, roadblocks and wanted posters are nothing against your skills, simply the barest minimum of the protocol." Peter shuttered as he remembered that pain and anger, it had been overwhelming. "When I opened that box, it felt like I had opened your coffin unaware. You looked so pale and sill! But, then it turned into a twisted nightmare as you turned to me and said those things… asked me to kill you. It might not have been my hand inducing that, but it was me that tortured you through all of this. Ever since you've been back you've kept your distance from me, reacted like I was going to hurt you, and you said I only pretended to care about you." His voice dropped to a whisper by the end. The words were playing through his mind, but he couldn't bare Neal confirming them.

Going silent, not even breathing for a moment, Neal didn't seem to have expected that. "You think I hate you, don't you?

"Why wouldn't you? I turned my back on you, sent you back to jail for a crime you didn't commit, left you unprotected which allowed them to… Which allowed him to hurt you in more ways than I can begin to cover. It was all my fault, I'm the one who betrayed my partner, friend, the little brother I never had, and…" With a shaking voice, Peter fought to keep the tears from running over. The action was reflected in his voice and sagging body language. "I don't want to hurt you anymore!"

Yanking his hand, Neal caused him to shift before pulling hard enough to force him to turn around.

Looking away from Neal's searching eyes, Peter was fighting himself in a losing battle. Being forced to face Neal while his emotions were running so high left him feeling awkward; so he shifted on his feet not knowing how to handle the situation.

"I don't hate you, okay?" Neal spoke softly, trying to provide comfort to Peter's guilt. "I'm sorry this has hurt you so much." He pulled Peter towards the bed as he got up making the agent sit next to him.

Breathing and clearing his voice, Peter tried not to sound quite as emotional. "You shouldn't be apologizing to me."

"Yes, I should. You did hurt me, and we're going to have to talk about that, but I've also hurt you through this… a lot apparently." Neal was shifting into a narrative mode.

"Not…" Peter started to talk, but Neal interrupted.

"Stop it, Peter!" His voice was louder, drowning out Peter's efforts to take the blame. "You don't know my side of the situation, so let me tell you why I owe you an apology!"

Nodding, Peter let him continued.

"First, like I was saying, you did hurt me with your accusations and by turning your back on me, but you also helped my role. Kieran has been looking for a means to punish me ever since I escaped prison and made my deal with you, really, probably since I went after Kate and let you arrest me. When I did that, I wasn't behaving like the malleable con I was supposed to be, and they saw it as a loss in profits. You played your role so they didn't suspect anything of me and made the takedown easier. Besides, if I had actually stolen the treasure and withheld it, I would have been betraying our friendship and your efforts." Neal was still holding Peter's hand while staring out across the room as he recounted the story.

"But you didn't." Peter extended his forgiveness before falling quiet at Neal's reprimanding glance.

"My point is that it would have been an unforgivable slap to your face if I had done what it looked like I had done, so I wouldn't blame you for hating me. Why I'm sorry about my words when you opened the box, is because it wasn't nice to rub your naivety in your face. I've known about Kieran since he was my handler and this situation is one of the reasons I'm assigned to play Caffrey. You didn't know anything about this before you opened the box and the events that unfolded afterward." Neal squeezed his hand trying to extend comfort. "I also played up some of my reactions for Kieran's benefit. Things would have been worse if he knew I was an agent before he had walked into the trap."

"Now you're apologizing for things you didn't do." Peter squeezed Neal's hand back grateful for Neal's words and understanding, even if he was still having trouble wrapping his head around it. "You didn't steal the treasure, withhold it, or run, so there is no need to apologize for those actions. As for your drugged ramblings, you were drugged, it wasn't your fault, and even then, you only said what would be understandable based on the situation. You don't owe me any kind of apology, because I owe you more than you could possibly owe me." Their roles were reversed as Neal tried to contradict him.

Holding his free hand up, Peter stalled Neal's efforts. "No, Neal. I do owe you a huge apology. You dealt with my false accusations, we both know you would have done everything possible to protect El if you had been given a chance, you refused to run in order to not let me down, and you took torture for an extended period of time about something you didn't do. To make it worse, the torture was done by someone who both looks and sounds like me, someone who tried to make you believe I not only condoned the action but personally tortured you! How could I not apologize for that?" Turning his head away, Peter had failed to prevent it and the tears were flowing down his face.

Feeling a touch on his arm, he turned back to Neal. The tough FBI agent didn't want to be seen crying and was trying to bury his emotions, but as a friend, he knew Neal needed to know he really did care as much as he showed, more actually.

"Peter, I knew it wasn't you torturing me and I've always known you don't condone that kind of treatment in any circumstances. This wasn't the first time I've been put through this, but it was the first time it was a face similar to a friend. It could have been worse, but I did lose some sense at times, like when you opened the lid. The drugs caused my mind to cross your face and blur you and Kieran into two sides of the same person. I didn't know it was you, I thought it was Kieran playing a role so I reacted the part of a drugged victim." Releasing Peter's hand, Neal shifted to holding his shoulder. "I wish you didn't have to see me like that. Those times where the drugs caused my mind to blur the lines or the stress caused the nightmares to seem real. It may take a while for me to put this fully behind me, and I apologize for all of this, but I don't blame you for what Kieran did."

"You may have played a part for some of what you said, but you once told me the best con came from a place of truth. I genuinely hurt you with my distrust and nearly cost you your life by throwing you away. For that, I can never be sorry enough." Peter shifted his arm to wrap it around the back of Neal's shoulders.

"It sounds to me like we've reached a stalemate. So, how about this? I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth for the sake of the operation which led me to play up your similarities to Kieran and hurt you a great deal. You're sorry you didn't trust me when I told you the truth and utterly regret throwing me away to them before turning your back on me completely. We both hurt each other, we're both sorry for it, although we still need to heal from the effects of what happened, we can at least help each other through it. Each of us is carrying around a load of guilt we aren't ready to unload which is keeping the emotions raw, but we're going to have to work past it." Neal stated.

Leaning into Neal, Peter hugged him from the side. An action Neal returned.

After a few moments of enjoying the comfort of the other's support, Peter pointed to the nightstand. "Then you might want to dispose of the transfer from.

Reaching out in frustration, Neal wadded it up and threw it at Peter. "Stop trying to get rid of me." His words hurt, but the playful tone and way he threw the paper wad without heat helped reduce the sting.

Almost smiling, Peter stepped away from the bed only to be distracted by the site of the maid preparing breakfast out on the balcony. "June said she would have breakfast sent up shortly."

"I should probably get up then." Neal moved to stand and stretch beside Peter.

Hearing him get up, Peter turned and silently watched him stretch while looking him over. Neal really was physically healthy. The injuries had healed and he couldn't tell he had been tortured. Unable to resist it, Peter pulled him into a hug and wrapped his arms tightly around the man. "I've wanted to hug you and know you were okay ever since I opened that stupid contraption to find you dying inside."

Smiling as he released some of his pain, Neal hugged Peter back just as tightly. "I couldn't have tolerated it then due to the drugs, but I hoped you would get around to it at some point. I've missed our friendship."

Breaking the hug after a few moments, Peter kept his hands on his shoulders. "I'm not going anywhere if you aren't. What do you say we go tackle this breakfast June has sent up?"

"I'm glad because I'm not going anywhere either." Neal smiled with it reaching all the way into his eyes. He was genuinely glad for their conversation and meant every word. "It would be nice for everything to resume a level or normal."

"So…" He started the conversation as he threw an arm across Peter's shoulders for them to walk out to breakfast. "How was the anklet?"

Laughing, Peter felt the best he had in months.

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Thank you, everyone, for reading, reviewing, and leaving kudos :D


	12. Chapter 12

**Epilogue**

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After taking a late morning to eat a leisurely breakfast, Peter enjoyed the drive into work. He and Neal were talking, not like they used to talk, about everything, but talking all the same which was a good start in the right direction.

Smiling as he parked, Peter paused to glance at Neal. "I know things are only just starting to work between us, but I'm glad to be fixing it. You're my best friend, and I've missed this."

Looking back, Neal smiled. "Me too."

Climbing out of the car, they enjoyed their comradery before meeting behind the car.

Throwing his arm across Neal's shoulder, Peter's smile faltered as he felt Neal flinch. Dropping his arm and clearing his throat, he tried to pick up the conversation again like nothing had happened.

He paused when Neal grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. "Peter…"

Once he was fully turned around, Neal started talking to him. "Remember, I don't blame you, it's just a reaction to months of psychological torture. Please, don't stop reaching out just because I flinch or twitch. I do miss our friendship, Peter."

Pulling Neal into another hug, Peter patted his back. "I'll keep reaching out then."

After a moment, they resumed their walk into the office.

Once they reached the White Collar unit, Peter patted Neal on the back when he left him at his desk. The younger agent had a pile of paperwork waiting and a whole team of people who wanted to talk to him. There were other friendships that needed repair.

Curling up in his office, Peter went to work on his own pile of reports and cases. As he worked, he resumed the game of glancing down to watch Neal throughout the day.

It was different this time though.

When Neal caught him watching, he'd make a goofy face to make him smile. At first, Peter was surprised cocking his head question. But once Neal had tapped smile in Morse Code on his desk, Peter started making faces back. Sure, his weren't as comedic, but it was his effort that counted. Besides, Neal reacted in some way each time by either directing how to make the face better, pretending to be horrified, or laughing at how ridiculous his efforts looked.

Soon enough the rest of the team caught on and it became a game to make faces at anyone who met your glance.

The comedy act seemed to lighten the mood sufficiently enough for even the most nervous members of the team to approach Neal on friendly terms.

When it was nearly lunch, someone made a ridiculous face so unexpected it caused an uproar of laughter to erupt through the office.

Swinging his office door open, Hughes walked out onto the landing looking around like he was upset by the ruckus. Raising his voice, he reprimanded those in hearing range. "What is going on out here? This isn't the comedy club, it's the FBI. Behave like agents!"

Although no one was afraid of serious repercussions, the team did quiet down and resume a more normal working atmosphere.

From his vantage point, Peter missed what face Hughes made at Neal, but based on the goofy face Neal made back, it had to be something other than his usual taciturn expression.

Then Hughes turned back towards Peter with a smile. Meeting Peter's glance with a small wave, the man returned to his office having settled the amusements to a more moderate level.

Smiling to himself, Peter loved the feeling of things returning to normal. The office wasn't quiet, awkward, or morose. Instead, there was laughter, jokes, and teasing. Sure, Neal still flinched in response to people on the team, particularly Peter, and he still seemed to be puzzling about the punch in the conference room, but things were getting back to normal.

When lunch came around, Peter stepped back and left Neal open for lunch with Jones and Diana allowing other members of the team more one on one time to talk to their friend.

Neal had glanced up as the time drew near and looked a little sad when Peter shook his head. Holding up a finger, Peter pointed towards Diana and Jones indicating it was their turn to take a piece of his time. Nodding, Neal seemed to get the message and smiled brighter again.

Turning to greet the agents, he discussed options and they headed for the door. Stopping at the door, Neal paused to do something on his phone before turning around to face Peter.

Hearing his phone buzz, Peter checked the message to discover that Neal was offering to bring him back lunch since he was working through the break. Smiling down appreciatively, Peter accepted the offer with a text.

Checking his phone when it buzzed, Neal smiled back up at him before walking out with a wave.

Getting absorbed into an accounting heavy case, Peter let the numbers speak to him until he was startled to hear a knock on the door.

Looking up, he waved Neal in and directed him to take the seat opposite him while he cleared the piles for a space to eat.

"Here's your sandwich. I had them try something different, so see if you can guess it. Deviled Ham could use a little pizzazz if you ask me." Neal teased with a sparkle in his eyes as he opened the packaging and set a fresh cup of fancy coffee next to it.

"Thanks. You know I'm probably not going to get it by myself. I'll have to say what it tastes like and ask El, but I won't explain it right so you'll give up and tell me." Peter smiled back as he relished in the teasing.

"Okay, for that, I won't tell you what I did." Neal leaned back in the chair and grinned.

"The hard way it is, just know Elizabeth would prefer the other route." Peter pretended to grumble while taking the first bite of his sandwich. Going quite, he tried to contemplate what could be different, but since he was trying to dissect every taste, he had no idea.

Smirking mischievously, Neal watched the show for a few moments before getting up to head back to his own workload.

"Seriously, what did you do?" Peter asked hoping his curiosity would encourage Neal to take pity on him.

"No way, I told you I wasn't going to tell, Peter. And since I'm an agent, you can't threaten me with prison anymore. I think I like things better this way, more liberating without so many potential threats of repercussions…" He winked at Peter before shutting and door and lightly whistling his way back to his desk.

Sighing, Peter couldn't begrudge him the game since he was too happy to have their friendship back to the level of games and banter, but he was still curious what the man had done to his sandwich!

When the day came to an end, Peter enjoyed hearing the conversations in the office as agents told Neal goodnight and made plans for the following day. It was another sign that the team was coming back together into a unified front. Neal was no longer singled out as the criminal, he wasn't the awkward elephant in the room, and he wasn't silently flinching away from everyone. All in all, it was a good day.

Taking the stairs to leave the office on time, Peter was too eager to extend his invitation. It had been too long and was way past overdue.

Catching Neal closing down his desk, Peter stopped like he had so many times before. "Hey, do you have any plans for the evening?"

Lighting up, Neal grinned knowing what that sentence meant. "No, but I get the feeling I'm about to."

Matching the smile, Peter offered the expected invitation. "Elizabeth would like to see you so she made your favorites. I can give you a lift."

Flipping his fedora onto his head, Neal ran his fingers along the brim in a snappy fashion. "Wouldn't miss it."

Throwing his arm across Neal's shoulder, Peter didn't withdrawal at his flinch. Instead, he wrapped his hand around Neal's shoulder to squeeze him into a sideways hug.

"Have I told you about my days in college?" Neal asked as he pushed the door open.

"No, we had a speculative conversation about what you might have been like if you went to college, but you haven't told me anything of what it was actually like," Peter answered.

"Well, there are a lot of stories… ooh, I should tell you about…" Neal started telling about something exciting, as they got into the elevator.

Listening to the story about a university library and suction cupped ammunition, Peter smiled to be regaled about his best friend's real past.

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Thank you, everyone, for reading, reviewing/commenting, and leaving kudos :D

Well, this story is a wrap and I hope you all enjoyed it! Next week I will begin posting the oldest story in my collection, Pinterest Prompts, which as the title indicates is a collection of prompts I picked up on Pinterest (the other site I live on besides Fanfiction ;). I have hundreds of pins for potential prompts, images that inspire possible story ideas, and things from the canon show that recap scenes and events so there will be more to this collection and other collections in the future, but like most of my collections they are something I only periodically visit and build between single story ideas. At present, there are only four chapters to this collection so I hope you enjoy :D


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